


Missing

by Aerosol



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Awesome Frigga, Drama, Everyone Needs A Hug, Helheimr | Hel (Realm), Horror, Light Angst, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki Feels, Loki Has Issues, Mythology References, Odin's Bad Parenting, Protective Thor, Sibling Love, Sorry Not Sorry, Suicide, Thor Is Not Stupid, Thor Is a Good Bro, Thor Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-18 12:20:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2348264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerosol/pseuds/Aerosol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first thing which caught Thor’s attention as he saw the blood was its colour. Not the pieces of broken glass in which it dipped. Not the ground that was decorated generously with it. Not the body which was bathed in it. No, solely the colour. For it shouldn’t have been red, but blue. Ice blue. Iceblood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Death

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my dear readers :3
> 
>  
> 
> This is the first chapter of an extended story which I’ve written in German first and now try to translate into English. I hope you understand everything and that you like what you read ;)
> 
>  
> 
> Now have fun with Reading :3
> 
> \---

The first thing which caught Thor’s attention as he saw the blood was its colour.  
  


Not the pieces of broken glass in which it dipped.

Not the ground that was decorated generously with it.  
Not the body which was bathed in it.

 

No, solely the _colour._

 

For it shouldn’t have been red, but blue. Ice blue. _Iceblood._  
  
„He wished for tiger lilies¨, Thor heard his mother whisper while she stood on his side studying the horrible scenario with her own eyes.  
Her lugubrious voice wavered between disbelief and plain pain.   
¨Red tiger lilies. His favourite flowers,  you still know that? He told me once they would remind him of you with their ferocious bloom. For you’d be a kind of tiger as well. A gorgeous, powerful carnivore in combat. He loved them only because of you.¨

 She bit her lips as a reflex on her strict education eons ago, so she could control the cry, which dared to come up her throat. She bit with such severity that a burgundian rill trickled down her chin falling down and staining her velvet nightdress. Her long fingernails clawed in the flesh of her naked upper arms penetrating the embraced skin with scarlet dents. she did not care. It was hard to tell if she even observed the ache.  
“Of course i made the guards bring him some instantly”, Frigga went on, a bit of confusion lingering in her voice, speaking like she was in trance. “A hole bundle in the most beautiful crystal vase, which i could find. If only I had known that he - i would never have - !"  
  


Letting a radiant teardrop roll over her left cheek she gave up her resistance, bowed down and cried.  
¨He just wanted some flowers...¨ she repeated softly, helpless. Eventually she broke of in mid-sentence. A single, rattling breath escaped her lips. Then she stood still and and succumbed to her own grief.  
  
Sie went not until Thor demanded it.  
  


Several hours passed after.  
  
Since then the Thunderer mutely surveyed the body which lay as stiff as ever. The view saddened him.  
  
The collar of Loki’s shirt was loosened with force, so that a streak of bare throat presented itself sardonically. The seen flesh was hazy blue and oddly fragile in its nature. Unveiled skin shimmered in the flickering blaze of  semi-burned out candles like fresh fallen snow but at the same time it seemed to be pure and clear as young morning dew.  
It was spookily beautiful.   
Shadows danced in tangled roundels on the gaunt walls. Thor sporadically payed attention to them. He did not know how long he already abided in the ravaged cell without stirring from the spot. No one could have told him that - when he entered the prison he had all guards commanded to leave their position.  
For precaution. To avoid witnesses, if needed.  
  
His heart throbbed in a tireless rhythm against his chest and he did not understand it.  
Did not understand why it continued pounding, as if there would have nothing happened though he felt this terrible stitch inside him.

He understood little at this moment anyway. Very, very little. And yet more than he could stand.  
  
  
After what seemed like ages he ultimately forced himself to take a step forward. Another one followed. And another one.   
  
Mechanically he headed to the approximate center of the room where the dead god huddled. Slender legs draped in dim fabric entwined themselves in a strangely twisted posture, an arm pressing on his waist in a straight line while the other was outstretched in an abstruse right angle. A sallow, delicate hand held a fist-sized clutched with stony fingers. Dried, brownish flaps of blood were stuck on it. Thor‘s gaze inevitably attached to them.

  
_¨He just wanted some flowers...¨_   
  
Secretly he asked himself how a piece of splinted glass could perform such a gruesome action. To be honest it appeared quite harmless by looking at it from a distance.  
 _'In capable hands every object can become a weapon.‘_  he answered his own question and suddenly he cursed his mother with all might and intensity he could afford in this second. For she had not thought of this simplicity when endowing Loki the lovely vase with its florid bouquet. For she had been blind for the obvious danger such favor entailed. But this anger, this rage abated quickly and was replaced with exuberant shame and nausea.  
Slowly the Thunder god went to his knees, hovering with his hands just a few inches above the breathless chest until he bowed down and wrapped his arms around it. Carefully, as he would touch delicate porcelain, he lifted the narrow torso holding it in a gently inclined slope.  
With one hand supporting the back, he ran his fingers over the bloodless face in feverish concentration like a blind man who tried to retrace the contours of the clear-cut profile.   
The skin he wandered over felt smooth and tough. And cold. Cold as glacial ice.

His impassable route led from the high forehead to chin, extended beyond the throat and unmoving chest where his fingertips glided over the place, under which the heart beat normally.

He poised. Quavery he pressed his bare hand on the flesh, pushing gently against it to capture even the most tender impulse.   
  
The slightest movement would have been enough.  Anything that could have been valued as tentative sign of life so that he was able to discover an alleged swindle. Another lie of his little brother to torture him.

But there was none. Everything what greeted him was an universal, soundless nothing. The body underneath him stayed motionless as the body of a puppet. Thor clenched his teeth.

No illusions this time. No lies. Real, real, the supposed descendent was **real**.   
  
All of a sudden his throat felt arid, swallowing all the pain he tried to hide oh so badly.  
  
Probably he should have screamed by now to declare his monstrous pain and sorrowful heart.   
At least some tears he should have shed over the corpse which once kept his brother’s mischievous soul.

But it seemed as if Loki was gone and had taken all of Thor’s words with him. What a beautiful thief…  
  


The Asgardian was not even able to create a simple cry of agony. Every muscle in his beefy body felt unbearably numb. Just slow, very slow the Thunderer did the only thing which he thought was right in this second.

Bending over double he hid the ghastly head close to his chest, stroking the midnight black hair with his fingers... and soon he began to rock the corpse in his arms establishing a placid rhythm. Back and forth, back and forth. Like a mother, rocking her newborn child to sleep, quenching its disturbance with protection and warmth.  
  
This gesture showed a kind of ghoulish fondness, the miracle of birth merged into the realization of death.  
  
  
And while Thor acted this way, his lips musingly lying on a frigid temple scrawny, wet streams of salt and sorrow poured over his bearded cheeks little by little, dripping on cinereous flesh. The only sound, which escaped from the Thunderer’s mouth was a suffocated whimper lonesomely echoing from the cell walls.  
  
  
\---  
  
¨You can’t do this!“ Frigga screamed at him, grabbed Thor's arm desperately, willing to let tie him up, if it was needed, ¨Nobody ever entered Helheim and returned alive! I don’t want to lose both of my sons today!¨  
  
Flippantly the crown-prince got rid of his mother’s grasp without looking up.  
¨Loki didn’t die on battlefield, therefore he’s not welcomed in Vallhalla.¨, he replied with rare calmness, his eyes bound forward, ¨You know, there is only one place left where he can be. I **have to** go there! ¨  
  
He could not stand his mother’s portrait at this time. Watching her heart break for the second time on this day could have possibly changed his decision.  
But he was not allowed to be swayed. He already knew well enough that it was a suicide mission he intended but what other choices were left? It was the only option to save Loki so that they could tie a new fate. A new, better, stronger bond of love and trust.   
  
It had been three hours after he left the dead’s cell, put on his armour and ordered Sleipnir, the fastest horse of all nine worlds as his mount. While Frigga went on with her repeated reminders, the blood swooshed in his ears. Fleetingly licking over is lips he could still taste the flavor of familar, cooled skin.   
His hands clenched into fists. No, he mustn‘t give up. He should never have given up. No matter which pleading afflicted him, which threats and horror stories he once heard about the lower realms of Hel – He had to **try** at least. If he did not, he would never be able to forgive himself.   
  
Finally, the Queen parted from her eldest son, as she felt his grim determination wafting in the atmosphere. Her posture was grief-stricken and at her eyelashes teardrops shone like little diamonds. However, her voice was firm and clear when she put her delicate hand on Thor’s cheek, looking at him searchingly.

 „If you’re already willing to go this disastrous path, promise me that you’ll come back as the healthy, vivid man I use to know.¨, she begged with mellow strictness. Thor nodded in silence, acted obedient. He enjoyed the heat of her fingers on his skin for a brief moment before he finally broke free and started walking.   
  
¨Thor.¨  
  
It was no order, but mere the empathic intonation his mother used urged him to stay. The Thunder god stayed like a statue, without turning around.  
He waited.  
  
¨Bring him home.¨  
  
The words slid softly from her lips and yet they drilled like blistering pins in his muscles, driving themselves to his widely beating heart. Then he bestirred fitfully, went across the hallways till he got outside and vanished under the sinister garment of the night.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
Though Helheim was indivisibly connected with all other eight worlds, it couldn’t be travelled by the bifrost as usual.  
  
Only the dead gained unrestricted access to subterranean realm. The ones who were still blessed with a vital spark smouldering their bodies and souls, had to make shifts otherwise. But to be honest you could have confidently said that the entrance to the withered kingdom almost was almost impossible to reach. Well, unless you possessed the most flexible and most vigorous mount in the whole universe. **THEN** a vague hope of success was given.  
As he would be out of his mind (maybe he was) Thor pressed his thighs into Sleipnir’s flanks making him hurry up. Sleipnir whickered angrily, but the Thunderer forgot to chuck the stallion’s neck to apologize. His whole being was oriented on their aim, his thoughts still lingered by the corpse of his beloved brother. He could almost hear Loki’s mocking voice roaring in the wind.  
  
¨You fool¨, he whispered in his ear, ¨You’re too late. Too late¨.   
  
Abruptly the Asgardian took a hand from the reins, lay it on his chest where a dreadful twinge found its way in. As there would be tiny daggers dotting his lungs.

  
¨You have failed. Anew.¨

  
They flew over the bifrost like cometary tails, went across the star-covered milky ways, till they sank deeper to the ground again.   
For a short time Thor closed his eyes as they broke through the pale blue sea level of Midgard, wilfully immersed into gloomy abysses. His muscles burned like flames due to the high pressure awaiting him, his lungs almost collapsed, but he not dared to struggle for breath before Sleipnir reached the place which was religiously called ‘Gap of Worlds’. Fervent veins of thick magma pulsed on its borders, tossed grayish trails of smoke into the air which dispersed into a frosty flood of fractional particles. They split in fluid distance.

The Asgardian led Sleipnir directly into the bubbling brew at the foot of the ravine, knowing that not even a nordic god would withstand such combustions harmlessly.  
The horse from which he awaited more physical resistance but to his surprise it bristled no second at all. Sleipnir rushed into the devil’s hole and did not care about safety or prudence. As if the horse knew, who would probably wait on the other side. As if Sleipnir would yearn after the man who rather preferred to be dead than trapped.  
  
It had once been Loki, the Sleipnir once found in the forest of Utgard, left behind by the herd of foals. Despite protests from the other companions he secretly smuggled the Little horse home, right into the royal stables.  
  
He had given Sleipnir his name, brought him up on the bottle patiently and broke him in so the bribed equerry could not accuse the horse to be rabid or ferocious. He also had Thor expressly noted if there should escape only one single word from his lips about the uninvited guest at the gathering of the all-father, he would personally nail him on the ceiling together with his loose tongue.  
For Thor clinged to his tongue very much and was highly aware of the sternness his brother’s threat contained, he remained silent till the sickish colt had grown into an impressive stallion.  And when the time had come Loki arranged it that Sleipnir was given as a birthday present to Odin to save him from a potential slaughterhouse for all eternity.   
Beyond that the god of lies had done more things and risked otherwise to keep his horse safe and well. Sleipnir now seemed to remember what he owed Loki, because he ran as if he were haunted by delusions and his hooves were littered with spines. But perhaps this relationship was  just because of the threatening presence of the approaching Helheim’s, who knew. Thor did not, complained already in spirit for having placed such horrendous theories in his mind. After all - it was just a horse, for which he interpreted love, everlasting affection and respect AND... almost motherly ambitions for the Jotun.

 If he thought it right, this was more than laughable.   
  
Utterly ridiculous. A puerility. He had no time to spend for such childish pranks of his mind.  
  
Nonetheless he tightened the reins in an irony grip to not be thrown from his horse.  
 _'I_ _’m coming, brother.'_ he thought and had to control himself not to emit a battlecry in the steaming air while they dived in this ocean of fire and indescribable heat gnawed on his skin.  
  
 _'I_ _’m coming to bring you back home!'_  
 

TBC...  
 


	2. Helheim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for 1 comment and 2 Kudos. Hope you'll like this chapter too^^
> 
> PS : The song I chose for *the woman* to sing is *Come little Children* and doesn’t belong to me. I found it on a Youtube-Video and fell in love with it. If you want to hear the full version, use this link : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1t8-_pI1-9Q

 

_Come little children_   
_I'll take thee away  
Into a land of enchantment..._

 

Languorously Loki opened his eyes.

  
Insurmountable darkness enveloped him like a tightly laced cocoon. She was so completely black that he first speculated if he lost his eyesight for an unknown reason and was damned now to carve out his miserable existence in sudden blindness. He opened his mouth carefully, licking his lips. They felt chapped. Dry and parched, as if not a single drop of water had wet them for months. Slowly he moved forward, tried to focus on his remaining senses to detect any information with the rest of his perception.

Searchingly he brushed his fingertips over moist ground, diagnosed its soft consistency as musty earth.

Where was he? Was this a dream? A nightmare? (He was rather used to nightmares.)

Narrowly he sat up, scrambling on knees and hands like a helpless cub. He knew no direction, just moving forward.  
  
He did this for a little while but nothing crossed his weary path. The gloom remained as the mold on which he walked. And yet it would have even relieved him if he encountered some form of resistance in his way. It would have given him the reassuring indication that he was not crawling in a circle, but was heading to a faraway target.

 

_Come, little children_

_The time's come to play_

_Here in my garden of shadows_

 

Abruptely Loki collapsed, pressed digged his forehead into the earth.

Tormented he pressed his hands over his ears, sharp waves of pain flooded his trembling body, penetrated every single muscle, which he owned.  
He was paralyzed, fell into toxic rigidity. Threads of saliva ran down from his half-opened mouth. It seemed to him as if he would be burned from the inside out with red-hot iron.

This voice. He knew this voice. He had never heard it before, but he thought to know the originator since his birth. Something which could have been abstrusely enough would not also the fact had been added that he was able to recitate every verse of the song without any hesitation.

Heartbreakingly the whimpering woman smashed every syllable throughout the country, wearing Loki out.

 

Then an inhumanly high whine cut through the air, mated in ghastly harmony with the melodic dance.. It took some time for the Jotune to realize that it came from **him**. Ordinarily he would have scolded himself for it, but as the sweet, hypnotic voice rang  again through the blackness, he lost any shame which had been left and he began to scream.

Shouted at the top of his lungs, screamed like someone whose skin was peeled off alive. He had never experienced such pain and could not withstand it mutely.

  
  
_Follow sweet children_   
_I'll show you the way_   
_Through all the pain and the sorrows_

_Weep not poor children_   
_For life is this way  
Murdering Beauty and Passions_

 

To his own horror he soon realized that hot tears fell from his cheeks. Weeping and wailing incomprehensible words he writhed on the floor and wrapped his stiff arms around his waist. To hold back his sobs he bit his lips hard tasting bitter metal. It shook him as the lifeblood fell down in heavy drops bursting noisily on earth.  
His forehead felt like it was on fire. His whole body trembled in fever while his fingers compared with icicles.  
Too much. Everything was just too much for him. What was going on!? Who was this broad and why brought her song such mourning, such an abysmal suffering to him that it threatened to tear his soul apart?  
Desperation poured like a poisonous rivulet into his veins, cracked them, infecting them.

 

  
 _Hush now dear children  
_ _It must be this way_  
To weary of life and deceptions  
  
Rest now my children  
For soon we'll away  
Into the calm and the quiet

  
  
¨No! ¨, the silver tongue wanted to shout, but not more than a choked whisper escaped his mouth. His voice was an echo, a whiff, a ghostly apparition in the mist of silence. ¨No, I don’t want to! ¨  
He did not know why he said this, nor what he was trying to achieve with it. He only knew, a fear, so entirely and without mercy, had seized him within seconds that it conquered his whole existence and made leave him in place as a babbling, quivering infant. And he knew something else. The voice, the broad, the woman ... whoever she was, she came **closer**. Her presence was similar to that of a force of nature. Clear and hard as rock, yet soft as a feather in a fresh breeze.  
She was final and easygoing, here and then far, far away.  
And now she was here. **HERE**. Oh, Loki knew more than anything that she came because of him. To pick him up. To take him away. But whereto? He refused to think about it. Just wanted to close his eyes and wake up in his cell.  
  
Breathing, raging.  
  
 **Living**.

  
  
_Come little children I'll take thee away  
_ _Into a land of enchantment_   
  
_Come little children_   
_The time's come to play_

 

Just a few more steps. A few meters.

She went with the weightlessness of angels, her feet barely touching the dirty soil.

Loki heard a chorus of children's voices, which continued the melody with a strange hollow sound, spanning a canon out of it.  
His limbs acted numb, his flesh was cold and motionless.  
Unable to move anymore he was at the mercy of fate. At least now utter panic afflicted his thoughts. The woman, or the _being_ (he did not really know what it was) was now in front of him. Her breath rippled in his ear, drove thornes in his heart which had, as he recognized in this moment, stopped to pound. Like a chunk of coal it weighed in his chest and he heard how she kneeled down before him, felt clammy spider fingers stroking his hair. They even took a tangled strand and placed it almost tenderly behind his ear.  
  
¨ _Here in my garden..._ ¨ she sang quietly, relieved.  
  
She had found her prey. Obviously she would not give it up again. Not at any price.

Desire pestered Loki‘s senses. He breathed no more, his eyelids fluttered.  
He was close to fainting.

  
¨Thor¨,  he gasped, took his last forces to put out a hand to someone of whom he always had claimed to hate him (and still did).  
  
¨Thor! ¨  
  
There was no other name, no other man he could have called in this moment. For nobody else would have recked about him anyway.  
  
And Loki waited. Seconds were hours for him, minutes were days in the blink of an eye. Ages passed by in a torrent of words, pictures and grief.  
But Thor didn’t come to his rescue. Thor was not here. Thor would not save him. Not this time and never again. Because he forgot him (Loki thought so). Because it was senseless to care about descendents. When this insight hit him, it was like the final blow the Jotun needed to finally give up. To let himself sink completely into the surrounding darkness.  
  
The fall into a meaningless nothing. A surrender of identity.

He wearily slumped to the ground, his eyes tilted backwards. He didn’t even noticed how dead lips pressed a frosty kiss on his temple, how he was lifted up and carried out of gloom.  
He did not care. Because he was dead. Truly _dead_.  
  
And Thor would find no way to put him out of this misery. The misery only he was responsible for.

He was alone. Alone with himself.  
  
And _her_.

 

 … _of shadows_.

 

* * *

 

 

Wettish gray mist pressed on Thor's face as soon as the magma redeemed in black ash chunks of his skin and armor and fell onto the bottomless ground.  
  
He breathed hard, every whiff which he choked down his throat  threw blisters of fire into his lungs. The flesh on his knuckles had burst, bulging red as a crab on the leather straps of the bridle, which he still held in an iron grasp. A few ends of his golden mane crackled softly, spraying a whirl of sparks over his aching shoulder blades. Sleipnir whinnied pitifully under the weight of the Thunder god, but most of his massive body had remained intact.But therefor the heat had demanded a lot from the berserk. All over and under the fabric of his clothes marrow-deep places were found and he felt as he had been roasted alive. Thus a lobster had to feel while been thrown into boiling water and cooking helplessly in his own shell.

Although the applied healing stones and his birth-given ability to regenerate already had fixed the worst damage, he felt miserable enough that he almost wanted to close his tired eyes and drift into an infinite sleep. Despite this thought seemed tempting, Thor shook his head impatiently and told himself to be vigilant. He did not know what outpost ambushed him, if he penetrated closer to the dreary realms.

He only knew - the most delicate hint of weakness was criminally forbidden here.

This was Helheim, the realm of the dead. It was no use to demonstrate his power, or to insist on the status he internalized in his beloved upper .

What mattered most was his legendary concern and the way he made it palatable to the mistress of this terrain. He had never heard before that Hel had ever given one of the souls away which dropped into her lap. And this caused great anxiety to him…

 The deeper they slid down, the more the swirling fog bank  thinned out. For the crown prince it seemed hours until he spied grained, anthracite-colored stone floor among themselves. At first he thought it would be a optical illusion, a trap for his gount, glowing limbs.  
  
But when Sleipnir sat all his eight hooves on the hard, flat surface, trotted step by step over snorting noisily with relief over the recovered gravity, Thor dismounted and dared himself to the ground, testing ist true nature by knocking on it with his heel.  
It resisted his weight. This pumped fresh courage in the Aesir’s veins.  
Pulling the stallion at his reins behind him, they bridged several meters of a track which soon turned out to be a straight path. Thor turnded his head, looked around suspiciously. Where the God looked, he saw a large, wide Nothing amidst off-white schemes. There was no significant landscape perspective, no rocks or bushes, where he perhaps could orient.

Complete emptiness.  
  
That was everything what Helheim was willing to give him.  
  
Ironically, it reminded Thor immediately of his own emptiness he felt since Loki's death lying like an invisible anvil on his heart. He threatened to sink into his thoughts again.  
Did his brother well? Had he finally found reasonable peace? And if so, wouldn’t the crown prince commit a serious mistake by he pursuing the intent to rip him from this world and bring him back into the halls of Asgard? Was he too selfish? Was he even egoistic? Had he just come here to prevent the jotun from his last act in the play of life? To even dispute his decision to die?  
  
Was that what he wanted to do **cruel** in the end? Irresponsible? Sadistic?  
  
Before his own allegations were able to move him to repentance, Sleipnir perkily nudged him between the shoulder blades, promoted him  forward imperiously. Surprised Thor turned around, realized that the stallion and he, however, were on the same level now. He no longer had to drag him along behind him - he went on a voluntary basis.  And in a remarkable, almost mocking pace.  
The thunder god looked Sleipnir into the big, brown eyes and was irritated by the intelligence that was hidden in these endless pupils. He was not aware whether the horse already had internalized this clever impression all the time or this was only shown for a short duration. Anyway, he understood immediately what the horse wanted to dictate him with its invitingly pawing hooves. Thor could not help it when he put a sad smile on his face. The behavior of the stallion touched his heart.

  
 "You miss him too, right? "  
   
Sleipnir responded with  an exasperated snort. It sounded like _"Of course, what did YOU think? Now, hurry up you bearded idiot! "_  
Thor laughed.  
This one-sided conversation was so abstruse to him that it, mingled with his pain, brought little tears in his eyes. Who would have ever thought that no lesser being as the mount of the All-Father missed Loki with the same devotion, as he did? It was miserable and at the same time immensely comforting to realize he was not the only one. Thor cleared his throat, swallowed several times. His mouth was dry.

 " We ... should not let him wait any longer . Surely he’s quite angry already.", he said roughly, went to the waiting stallion , which shifted his weight in his nervousness alternately on each of its eight legs .  
Several times he bowed the elongated skull , as he would want to agree with the Aesir . Together they walked on , crossed the path without looking back . Thor even dared to reach out his hand stroking gently over Sleipnir’s ash-gray mane . To his honest joythe stallion granted it without any grumbling .  
  
The crown prince had stopped counting minutes when a gigantic, wrought-iron gate crossed his field of vision. To be honest , Thor had indeed pictured nothing regarding the gateway to Helheim , but he certainly did not expect any ordinary steel fittings, as they were found in Asgard in hundreds of buildings. Confused, he let his gaze ramble over the surrounding.    
Where were thedeparted soulsthat shouldcavortin front of theentranceof Hades?Where were thefearsomeguardiansand the otherhorrorsthat had beenpreachedto himinchildhood?

They did not exist.  
  
The flat rank before him contained stone and dust, otherwise it was unspotted from each oh so puny sign of life. The Thunderer was clueless. The door was locked by an artful interweaving of various components that had been poured into geometrically flowing forms. Together they created a single, impenetrable plate of iron and gold. Thor did not have a matching key to it yet he had known, in which hole he had to put it to achieve the desired result.  
But how should he open this door then? Mjöllnir weighed heavily on his hip . Well, swinging the hammer would have been a possibility, but he wrestled with what might follow after. Previously, he had spared no consequences, accepting them easily. But now, after he endured exile, found new awakened love for Midgard and the people there he used caution. A helter – skelter decision could lead inevitably to death, or worse. At least from that mistake he had learned. Thoughtfully, he bowed his head, crossed his arms over his chest. Sleipnir beside him angrily pushed the air out of his nostrils. He seemed not too happy about their forced stopover.  
¨Stay calm. We’ll find another way¨, Thor told him softly, but the stallion turned away from him sulkily , trotted to the door and knocked it with an ankle checking the hard material. Before the god of thunder could stop him in time Sleipnir quickly turned around and gave the left leaf  a powerful kick with his h ind legs. All four hooves clacked simultaneously against the iron, brought it to a deafening clatter. Alarmed Thor grabbed his weapon, preparing to be overrun by a horde of skeleton warriors. Yet nothing of such sort happened.

"You should keep your horse on a leash, little god. Otherwise my dear Garm will tan its beautifully groomed fur."

The named man turned in astonishment to the right from where the deep voice came from. His eyes widened. A gigantic woman had pushed herself out of the bounds of fog standing two feet away like she had scarcely grown out of earth. Her body seemed coarse and shapeless as it was built of blocks.  
Gruffly was the midnight dark skin, her pupils reminded of almond slices in the milky white ocean of her eyeballs. Her worn face looked grim and unforgiving. I took Thor only a few seconds to realize that she was one of the cruel guardian figures he had heard of and she certainly did not approve Sleipnir's disrespectful behaviour. He sighed inwardly. He had not spoken a single world yet made he already made himself unpopular. This made his mission not easier. He tried to compose himself inhaling deeply.  
"I‘m Thor, son of O-" he began formally, but the contemptuous laughter of the giantess interrupted him rudely.

"I know who you are, Thunderer", she said, boredom laying in her voice. She severed a mace from her wide belt rotating it playfully in the air. It had thorns on it. They looked spiky. Thor did not want to be sharpened on them. But he knew that he probably could not prevent a fight to get over the entrails Helheims. He still held Mjolnir in a tight grasp.  
The hammer was his insurance. His only stop in the middle of nowhere. However, Sleipnir slowly trotted beside the crown prince. He held his head upright, staring at the guard silently. He seemed to feel no fear. Neither towards her, nor towards ‘Garm’, the growling dog crouched to her bulky feet and blessed with the size of an ox. Viscous drool dripped from the raised lips of the wide snout, eyes glowing red like blood. Thor did not want to get too close to this hound. It would have bitten off his hand up for sure.  
   
"I want to talk to thy mistress. She has something that belongs to me ", he finally said in a commanding voice, did not know how he should phrase it otherwise.  
The giantess smirked. Two gappy, yellow rows of teeth became visible.  
"Wrong, Aesir. This is Helheim, the home of departed souls. My mistress is the only one who commands here. And nothing belongs to you for everything is dead and legally her property. "   
   
Thor ground his teeth. What an irreverent spawn of darkness he had met. But what else could he expect from a giantess ...  
"What do you call yourself? " he asked warily, "What is your name?"  
 "Modgudr" she replied, "I already know who you are. Thor, son of the All-Father and heir of his throne. To be honest, it surprises me that a noble like you dares to stroll in these dark realms." Her eyes narrowed to calculating slots.   
 "Well, you must have doted on the little frost giant if you want to mess with the goddess of death herself. I admit, I was astonished about your sudden need to save him. Almost ironical for it was his own intention to escape you and the cursed dungeon you trapped him in through suicide. And now YOU come to Helheim and demand to put the stolen soul back into his breathless body? Aesirs these days will never stop to amuse me."  
   
The voice of the giantess was cold and hard as a breeze in october night. And each of her barbed words stabbed Thor straight through the heart.  
He did not even ask why she knew about his plight. He wanted only one thing – to silence her. Because her cruel, self-evident words revealed what tormented him inside since he had received the message from an excited guard, his brother would be laying mute and rigid on the floor of his cell. He knew that it was pointless to doubt her sentences or to even name and shame any apparent truths. Because if he was honest, he had exactly thought about the same suspicions on which Loki's suicide was concerned. **He** had been the cause. Among many other things.  
 **He** had been the tip of the iceberg.  
He was not able to persuade another reason for this developement, because there simply no other _existed_.  
  
Thor took a deep , rattling breath.  
   
"Loki was out of his mind when he picked up the shard to cut himself." he said gruffly , strove for a firm, unwavering tone .  "If he had possessed a clear mind , he wouldn’t have chosen this dishonourable path . I know my brother. He's too strong to take refuge in suicide."  
   
Modgudr gave him a sidelong glance.  
   
"If you actually believe what you’re talking, you're more pathetic than I thought " she said dryly as she shouldered her mace. The spines bounced like cotton wool on her granite skin. "But well , you can keep your illusions if they ease your conscience . Nevertheless, you mustn’t proceed. This is the end. " With the other, free hand she pointed in the direction Thor and Sleipnir just came from.  
 "Crawl back to your your bright kingdom and turn your back on this fog. The jotun is now one of us." Her grin widened to the hight  of her cheekbones growing into a horrific grimace . "Don’t worry. Hel has , as far as I 've heard, already taken a **liking** to him."  
   
Thor hesitated slightly when he heard the last remark, but managed to catch himself quickly. His eyes hardened , fine lightnings flashed in the cobalt blue iris. The scenarios which Modgudr conjured in his mind drove him bitter and furious. Learning that Hel herself took his brother into custody, spanned every fiber of his body. And the anger, this well-known , liberating anger strengthened his decision from second to second .  
  
 "I will only go when Loki comes with me. Alive " , he said , and his voice rumbled like the thunder itself over the washed-out schemes that would have been mentioned ‘country’ in other worlds.  
Ordinary enemies would have been threaten by that date, or at least the foresight to escape. But Modgudr remained immune against the rage of the Aesir. Not a single step she backed away. Who could tell what monstrous figures she had met and killed during her eternal patrol.  
She was old , perhaps older than many mountains , perhaps older than the stone floor at her feet and the gate behind her back.

Many things had happened to her. Lots of strange things for sure. She had faced many dangerous situations. Above all, she had faced many stubborn creatures before.  
  
And the fact that a god like Thor descended into this sea of mist and dared to speak out against the death sentence of Hel was certainly no exception that would have been stated explicitly. She even let out a loud yawn, which was hardly intended to be mitigated with her hand, so that Thor could look at her rust-red throat. Him about a shiver.  
Whether it was indignation or disgust he felt he could not say at that moment. Probably both.  
¨ You had your chance, Thunderer ¨ she said in a bored tone, took her mace from her shoulder and let it bounce on the ground in which formed narrow cracks in a blink of an eye. ¨ And you lost it. However, if you do not understand otherwise, I'll probably have to help you with your little farewell. The years taught me it’s quite sufficient to break one’s legs and arms in such case. The Asgardian people were always more snivelling than mine. Millennia didn’t change that. ¨  
  
With heavy steps she came up to Thor. The earth shook under her weight. She walked almost leisurely. As if she did not intend to shatter Thor’s bones, but want to shake his hand in greeting. Thor flinched no inch, remained in place. Mjolnir pulsed aggressively in his fist.  
The hammer had tasted no more giant blood since the last time Thor payed a visit to Jotunheim, no wonder that her appetite had grown so much. Her master, however, was so moved by despair, pain and self-hatred that he had randomly beaten up each creature that stood against him right now. Sleipnir had knowingly taken some distance, watching the spectacle with silent satisfaction. Had the stallion been able to, he would probably applaud with his hooves (which admittedly would have looked a bit strange ...).  
  
 Only half a meter separated Thor and the Guardian when a sudden icy chill ran down over the Thunderer’s flesh . Suddenly he gasped for breath as he felt his lungs would have dipped in frost. Modgudr stopped abruptedly , turning her angular head , as if she had heard someone calling her name .  
Shortly after Thor heard a pitiful , deafening squeal close to him. He looked up, his vision focused on the iron gate . He was not mistaken . The huge wings of steel swung open invitingly. And the bigger the gap was that they offered , the more it was as if a bony hand wrapped around his beating heart , threatening to tear it out of his chest. Sleipnir whinnied nervously , stood on his hind legs. Even he realized the deadly presence from the place behind the entrance .  
  
Thor squared his shoulders .He was a bit scared, yes, yet he could not help but feel some relief in this unique message.  
 "It seems your mistress knows who I am and wants to prepare a fitting reception." he declared and gave Modgudr a triumphant , piercing look .  
  
The gigantic woman merely snorted contemptuously.  
   
"Hel does not discriminate between gods and mortals , you fool" she said undauntedly , clasped her mace firmly back on her belt . She turned her head to the side until her neck let out a smacking crack. "Remember, Odin was the one who once threw her as young girl in this dreary gap and gave her existence in the hands of fate . She didn’t choose this kind of craft voluntarily." She grinned maniacally. A vicious, animalistic glint sprung into her eyes , greatly expanded her pupils. _Thirst for revenge_ , as Thor knew this expression oh too well .  
 "She hates him more than life hates her . I think she will make the example of you which old Odin denied her for so long ."  
 

Her giggle sounded hollow and clattered tinnily out her throat.  
  
Thor swallowed hard , but did not show his nervousness bubbling . Just as his shock. It was the first time he had heard that the goddess of death had obtained her ungrateful duty from his father.  
   
"Oh yeah ?" he said defiantly , preserved the self-confident appearance . "What does she hope to accomplish then. Kill me?"  
 

"There are worse fates than death, Thunderer."  
   
Thor shook his head impatiently, ran his fingers through his hair.

“So be it”, he muttered stubbornly, darted his eyes to Sleipnir, ¨ Take care of my horse while I'm gone. When I return and see that you laid a finger on him - ¨  
  
The giantess stopped him with a wave of her hand, before Thor could finish his sentence.  
   
"I vouch for his integrity. Hel's guests are treated like porcelain", she implored him soberly, then turned to her hellhound, which, however, tried to bite the chain he wore on his neck with sharp teeth. His action was crowned with moderate success. The first steel fragments already piled up on grayish ground.  
Modgudr narrowed her eyes in a tricky way. "But by Garm you never know. He is always so terribly impetuous. Especially when he meets a new playmate ... " she let her words ominously fade away ominously.  
  
But when the thunder god did not answer it, nor ventured a few more steps into the deeper realms of Helheim, the corners of her mouth sank rapidly.   
  
"What is it!?" she asked brusquely, "Now go finally before Hel changes her mind.She is capricious like a corpse."  
   
Thor looked at her. Then to the open gate. Finally, to Sleipnir, who looked at him in silence. The stallion stood like a statue, calm and collected. He did not move from his spot. He would wait for him. Until Loki returned. Until he had brought his little brother back.  
Thor hesitated. For a heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Three. This was his chance. His last chance to change their destiny.  
He would get no more.

  
Finally he began to move and crossed the entrance to the Underworld without looking back again. His hulking silhouette was greedily swallowed by the swirling streaks of shadow.  
  
Unaware of what lurked in them.


	3. Hel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor goes to Helheim and meets the queen of death herself - Hel. How will she react to Thor's pleading? Find out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello :)
> 
> Thank you very much for 3 comments, 9 kudos and 4 subscribers. I hope you'll like this chapter as well^^

Thor could barely see his hand in front of his eyes.  
  
The fog that had hampered him outside the door, compacted and blurred his view with every step he strode forward. He struggled through milky walls of greay smoke not knowing what dangers might lie in wait for him. It was quiet. So finally quiet that the silence almost bit in his ears.  
The only sounds he heard was his own, quickening breath and his vigilant beating heart. This was a cursed place. He felt it with every fiber of his body. The oppressive atmosphere put shackles on his soul and squeezed the breath out of his lungs.  
  
Like a blind man he stumbled around and at least now he had to admit that he did not know where he should go. He had no idea where he Loki was imprisoned, nor how he could convince Loki to go back to the surface without being mauled alive by Modgudr or even Hel. It would be difficult. Very difficult. At least he had never heard that anyone ever managed to cheat death.  
He wanted to just grudgingly confess that he had lost his way hopelessly, as he recognized directly behind him a powerful presence. Thunderstruck, he spun around, raised his hammer to attack.

And stifled a scream.

A few feet away from him walked a creature that he had only known from scary stories. Until now.  
  
Her body was inhumanly thin and scrawny like the branch of a bony oak. A simple dress reaching the ground covered her childish nakedness. Everything about her seemed extremely stretched like she had been on the rack. Especially her fingers had the length of kitchen knives and appeared similar to claws. Her figure was in the middle split in two, and seemed to have been sewn together with a scant number of needlesticks. One half of her body was white and captured an unearthly beauty.  
The flawless skin shimmered in a warm tone as well as her half-smile which proclaimed goodness. The other half was black and the skin wrinkled and withered. The meat rotted in several places and looked by it more closely, you saw pale bone fragments shine through unhealed wounds everywhere.  
Hel.

The woman with two faces that had blended into a single, grotesque face. She who was feared by the All-Father himself.  
She, who held Loki in her fangs.  
  
Thor clenched his fists. Swallowed hard. He did not flinch.

 _He was a god !_  
  
¨Thor Odinsson¨, the woman said and her voice creaked, als bröckle Grabeserde zwischen ihren Zähnen. ¨What an honor the Asgardian prince pays a visit to my modest home. Do you like the countryside? ¨ She spoke without any form of feeling or sensation. She sounded cold. Thor überlief eine Gänsehaut.  
“Perhaps it would rather have pleased me, if it had not encountered your guardian ¨ he rasped against his will, cleared his throat to give his voice some hardness back, ¨ Now I think every time I look around, somewhere her rocky humpback seems to spot.”  
Hel bowed her head vaguely. Her colorless eyes studied him dispassionately.  
¨ Ah, then you've already met Modgudr ¨ she said. It was a statement, not a question, ¨ She is a good soul, isn’t she? Although her lovely strictness makes her bitter sometimes.¨  
  
¨Lovely?¨.  
  
Thor was forced to a humorless laugh, no matter what consequences it drew with it, ¨ Is it called here _loving_ when you threaten someone to break his bones? ¨  
¨ Only if you ordinarily start to rip the internal organs apart first, yes ¨ Hel replied and left no doubt that she was deadly serious in her remark.  
Thor took a deep breath. The constant presence of death tugged hungrily at his strength like a drunken woman. He felt them leave him painfully slow. The faster he could get out of here with Loki, the better.  
¨ I'm here because-“ he began, but Hel raised her hand to shut him up.  
¨ I know what brings you here, Thunderer ¨ she said flatly, her voice similar to quicksand, ¨ You miss a certain frost giant in your ranks, I suppose.”

Thor snorted.

“Then stop your games and give me what you stole from me. Tell me, where is Loki? Where did you hide him? ¨  
  
Shortly after these words had left his lips, he regretted it. The ambient temperature dropped rapidly. The fog fell down like stone walls around him.  
¨ I have no need to hide him ¨, Hel corrected mildly, ¨ And I want you to pay better attention to your tone. I'm not a thief. Loki has voluntarily brought himself into my arms. To die the straw death was his decision, not mine.”  
Goose bumps paved over the muscled arms of the berserker and Thor shivered as rare in his life. Even Jotunheim seemed to be a cozy place at this moment. His teeth chattered.  
¨ That doesn't matter. No matter how it happened and who is responsible, Helheim is not the place where he should be. Loki belongs home. Give him back! ¨  
The goddess laid her grotesque head sidewards. Even if there was still no single emotion reflected on her face, she seemed amused because of his reckless statement.  
¨ Why should I give you back something that has never deserved to be yours? ¨ she asked. Thor froze.  
When several minutes without an answer had passed, the goddess made a small gesture with her delicate white hand.  
¨ You know, it's good to have someone on your side who has experienced the same suffering as oneself. ¨ she said, viewing the wasteland in front of her, ¨ Once Odin took me from my mother and threw me into the darkest place he could find. He believed me dead, **wanted** me dead, but Modgudr found my shattered, whimpering body and took me into her care. I owe her my continuing existence. And yet I was so lonely all the time. Terribly lonely ... ¨ a sigh escaped her parted lips. Somewhere Thor heard the cry of an old woman. “Loki is lonely, too. We can be lonely together now. ¨  
  
She studied him under dense and sparse eyelashes.  
  
¨ You are a good son and a good brother. ¨ she judged softly, as if she spoke to an old man embedded in his deathbed, ¨ But you don't know what true love is. And you can't give something which you know nothing about. It brought your brother into his grave. ¨  
  
She snapped her fingers. The fog in her back formed obediently to a bench on which she sat down. Abruptly Loki materialized out of nowhere next to her, his head resting in her lap.  
He had closed his eyes. He was unconscious. And pale, paler than to his own lifetime.  
  
¨ Loki! ¨  
  
It was more of a reflex than a personal decision when Thor shouted the name. No, he roared it like a lion. But Loki did not move.  
  
¨ I'm sorry to disappoint you but he can neither see you nor hear you.¨ Hel said with a little smirk draped over the corners of her twisted mouth.  
Almost gingerly she ran her bony fingers through the raven hair of the jotun, stroked the stray strands from his forehead.  
¨ He is dead. Only those who share this condition he is allowed to perceive¨.  
But Thor did not want to believe her. The mighty man was shaking like a child scared of a clown. His eyes were intently focused on Loki and Loki alone.

¨ No! ¨ He spat, took a step forward. ¨ No, you can’t do this. Loki! Loki wake, up! ¨  
  
  
Now he shouted. Shouted so loud his throat was aching.  
Still, there what no answer.  
It was as if Loki was asleep.  
  
Thor did not know if he imagined, but he could have sworn that Hel actually smiled.  
  
¨ It's time to go, Odinson. ¨  
  
Her elected tone was surprisingly friendly. However it was determined.  
¨ I allowed you to see Loki one last time with your own eyes, but also **I** am bound by ancient laws ¨ she said coolly, any pity in her voice amortising loan, ¨ One of them forbids me to tolerate a living being in the kingdom of the dead. Another prevents me from what is dead to come alive again. Unless death itself cherishes compassion. You have come for nothing, my dear. Loki stays with me. For all eternity. ¨  
  
¨ No! ¨ Thor called her for the third time desperately, ¨ I beg you, have mercy! I'll give you what you want! Gold, jewels - ¨  
  
¨ The dead have no use for jewelry and other trinkets. They desire nothing but their silence ¨, Hel said lightly, her eyes far back in morbid tenderness on Loki teaching, ¨ Do not be worried, even a god dies someday. Make sure that you fall in battle, then Valhalla will greet you. ¨  
  
¨ I cannot wait that long. Tell me what you want. I'll do everything. **Everything**! ¨  
  
Finally the goddess listened up. Her emaciated body stiffened almost imperceptibly, as if a terrible episode of her mind had sprung in front of her eyes. Then she lifted her head up, and her carbon iris collided with Thor’s.

"Everything? ¨ she repeated, spitting out the letters like poison. ¨Are these your last words? I'm afraid I don't remember an Aesir who ever had hold his promises. Not when they came to me. ¨  
  
The chance scenting, Thor put a hand on his chest where his heart was beating. Drops of sweat stood on his forehead. A deal with the mistress of death. Would Loki have been awake, he would have certainly referred to this as the most stupidest task, that Thor ever was going to do.  
But Loki was not awake. He was dead.  
And Thor would do everything to put an end to this terrible state.  
  
¨ I swear it, he replied firmly, ¨ By Loki's life. Spot me a duty and I’ll do it, no matter what comes my way. ¨  
  
She stared at him openly.  
For a long time.  
Then she split her lips.  
  
¨ Kill Odin. Bring his soul into my kingdom. Only then you'll get Loki back. ¨

 

* * *

 

 

It came to pass, that Modgudr (would draw the relevant consequences)  four hours after that meeting, crossed the gate of Helheim on her own and went in search of Hel.  
  
Soon she found the goddess in her dwelling. Like a young queen she was enthroned on her bed, cross-legged and stared at the gray brick wall in front of her with keen interest. She played with a cat skull in her hands. Hel loved cats. Modgudr turned slightly to the left and discovered the jotun, as he crouched in a corner of the room, knees bent and his lips pressed into a thin line. She nodded to him.  
  
“Hello Loki.” she greeted him with her raw voice.  
Knowing well that she would not get any response, not even a single twitch of his bony shoulders.  
As expected Loki replied nothing. Sighing softly, the giantess turned back to her foster daughter. All the millennia that had passed - and yet she still hated it most, when the personalities of the dead slowly but steadily broke apart, remaining in a state of mental derangement. She would never be able to fully accept this cruel development. But enough of that. She had not come here now to fall into useless melancholy.  
  
¨ Why did you let him go? ¨ she asked straight out, put her paws on her angular hips, ¨ you probably know that he won’t do it, right? He won’t kill his own father? ¨  
  
Hel tended her head vaguely, so the blonde half of her hair tuft similar to cover the beautiful side of her face like a curtain. The bare, black counterpart suspected not a single hint about her current feelings.  
  
¨Oh, I don’t know.¨ she said in a shallow tone, repeatedly digging with her thumb in one of the empty eye sockets of the skull, as if she were waiting for something to bite her back finally, ¨ There was something in his eyes. Something, which reminded me of myself when ... ¨ Her sentence trailed off unfinished.  
  
Modgudr snorted.

¨ And what would that be? ¨, she dug in a deeper bass. She did not like the grief that threatened to emerge, as it was formative in the two different halves of the goddess’ face.  
  
¨Love” she answered promptly and it sounded as if she were speaking about a friend who had become a stranger to her over the years, ¨ All-consuming, agonizing love. His expression became the father of someone who would do everything possible to save the one he loves. Even kill. I ... the same expression shone in my mother's eyes, when Odin’s soldiers tore me from her arms. ¨  
  
Hel wrapped her own arms around her waist, as if she felt cold. Her eyes lost themselves in the distance.  
  
¨ As the men picked me up, she hurried after them like a madman, stamping with her little fists on the metal armor without a single dent to leave. She screamed and cried and scratched  their vulgar visages. _Take me_ _!_ she called after them in desperation. _Take me!_ again and again. After all, it was one of them who had enough,  took his sword and ... I'll never forget the silence that rang in my ears as she fell down to the ground and stopped moving. Then the… the petrifaction of her body, the hunched posture. The blood that oozed from her wound. Her gaze was still on me. I was instinctively aware that the fire in her eyes was extinguished. ¨ Hel fell silent. It almost seemed as if  a humorless laugh sneaked up her throat, but she remained quiet. ¨ Only my own screams remained while they pulled me away further. ¨ she said then, whispered in a voice that had lost any indifference.  
She was destroyed by grief. And maybe even felt a bit of self-loathing.  
¨ I was deaf, because death had taken away any sound. He should have punished me with blindness instead. Then I would never had… to watch all this. ¨  
  
“Her death was not in vain”, Modgudr interjected soothingly, but Hel only looked at her with dreary eyes.  
  
¨ It was my fault. ¨  
  
¨ You couldn’t do anything. You were a child. "  
  
¨ So what? If she had not born me, she would have escaped this wretched fate. If she had listened to the priest, who told her to drown me when I was a devilish infant, she would have remained alive. ¨  
  
¨ There is no use to curse our past, dear. Deeds are better than words. ¨  
  
¨ I know. ¨  
  
She held out her dark spider hand, fingers spread in a quirky angle. Modgudr watched silently as Loki's head skyrocketed like a puppet, his limbs began to move haltingly and he clambered on to Hel. There was no pain in his eyes. No anger. No shame. No life.  
The green of his iris resembled as a muddy mud puddle reflecting the dense roof of an overgrown jungle. Hel looked at him, looked at him like a sculpture she was particularly impressed of. It took only a single hint, a reflex of her smallest fingertip, and the jotun knelt in the dust a few millimeters in front of her. Laughing involuntarily she leaned forward and covered his pointed chin with her hand, lifted it slightly.  
  
¨ He's beautiful, isn’t he? ¨  
  
She turned Loki's head to the keft, almost broke his cervical vertebra without realizing it. How could she? She met no significant resistance. No one warned her to be more careful. No one cared about pain anymore. “Beautiful… in a broken way.” she continued thoughtfully.  
  
Modgudr snorted.  
  
¨ You always had a passion for already damaged toys ¨ she muttered without enthusiasm, folded her arms, ¨ What will you do? Put him clean clothes on and show him off on the bridge? ¨ she asked sarcastically. The manner in which the goddess looked at the hapless ice giant made her worry.  
  
Hel smiled.  
  
“Maybe” she replied dreamily, ¨ Maybe he can. Maybe he can hold me in his arms until I fall asleep, too. It would be nice to have a male companion here. And he can entertain me with some magic tricks, when I'm sad. ¨ She grabbed the cat skull and weighed it under Loki’s nose.  
  
¨ Come on, my wizard. ¨ she whispered enticingly, her shoulders tense with anticipation, ¨ Show me your skills. Bring this animal back to life. ¨  
  
Modgudr shook her head, sighing. Millennia had passed. And the native ruler of Hades, her _mistress_ had remained a guileless girl in her very core.  
¨ Child, you surely do not expe - ¨  
  
The words were rusting on her tongue. Surprised, she expanded her eyes.  
  
Loki stood up without hesitation and muttered a few obscure, magical formulas whose language Modgudr linked with an old elvish dialect. Suddenly, the skull was floating in the air, turned slowly on its axis. The temperature in the room dropped several degrees.  
And the colder was, the closer a fleshy mass began to sprout around the bone, covering the hollow ceiling with blood and tendons and nerves. Soon, the grayish substance of a cerebrum formed, a moment later a protective bark invaginated, liquids poured over it and the first pieces of skin subjected. Within seconds scattered hairs grew, added to a complete borken brown fur. Milky eyeballs grew into the empty caves, came forth, until the last foothills of fur overgrew the entire field and they were forced back deep into the cavities.  
  
¨ Do you still have left the other bones of the skeleton somewhere? A cat is not an insect. It’s head can not vegetate without a body. ¨  
  
Loki's voice was businesslike and soulless. Modgudr could see a distinctive, rare light in Hel's gaze. This whole situation pleased her less and less.  
Hel, however, searched in her shelf, opened the third drawer and took a framed glass case bearing a plate induced with numerous bone fragments.  
  
¨ They broke two months ago. I let them fall, unfortunately. ¨ she said abruptly, eying the fractures critically. ¨ To assemble them seemed… nonsensical. ¨  
  
Loki looked toward her with cold eyes.  
  
“No problem. I can handle this.” he said.  
  
The yellowed fragments flew to him in pleased order. He directed them on the head, which had once belonged to the form of a body. As if it were a cosmic mosaic, piece by piece attached to each other, driven by alien forces. Finally, the completed backbone also wetted with skin and hair. Organs, ribs and fabric clenched underneath.  
  
As the animal actually fell to the ground, intercepted instinctively using its four paws and dashed with a roaring _meow,_ making a nimbly hump out of the room, Hel almost shouted in joy. She was thrilled by the result, clapped her hands in a hasty pace. She seemed like a different person now, although her appearance remained just as frightening as in general. Loki did not respond. He stood there like a statue, unalterable and dumb. He had fulfilled his ministry. And waited for the next. His free will was extinguished.  
Though the giantess liked to see her little protégé indulged in her happy moment, she unfortunately knew too well what lay behind this spectacle.

It was not the first time.  
  
“Hel” she said gently, intending a reasonable suspicion. ¨ You ... you never even _believed_ that Thor would kill his father, did you? ¨  
  
As if she was struck by lightning Hel turned her face and the last character of a smile paled from her lips, introduced a farce.  
  
¨ What do you mean? ¨ she said sharply, seemed out of tune, ¨ Of course, I believed in this possibility. I still do. I'm not like the Asgardians. I don’t fool anybody! ¨  
  
Modgudr could not help but to hear a resonate touch of outright hostility in her voice. To argue with Hel always lead to a discussion and such discussions were battles she had already lost before she even began to fight. She could not win. She could only try again and again.  
  
¨ You knew he would not go until he has wrested a promise from you. ¨ she said mercilessly, performing a hand dismissively, ¨ This pact ... he will not redeem it. Because he won’t trade his father's life against the life of an ice giant, no matter how much he claims to miss him. The kingdom cannot exist without its king and Thor hates the thought of taking this responsibility. You told him he wouldn’t know what true love is. But that's not true, you've disproved with your remarks. You meant somebody else. ¨  
  
Hel pursed her lips.  
  
¨This may be.” she decided evasively. Then she sank back on her mattress. Her hands buried themselves convulsively in her lap. She was trembling slightly. Whether from fear or suppressed anger was not clear.  
  
“I'm quite tired and should sleep. Please, go now.” she said curtly. Despite that she used the word 'Please', her sentence sounded more like a command.  
But Modgudr was not until she had brought her thoughts to an end. She contented herself reluctantly with half truths.  
  
“You never wanted to hold your promise.” she repeated urgingly. ¨ Your words were solely - ¨  
  
“Go.”  
  
Suddenly, a man-sized shadow hung in the corners of the room, climbing swiftly through the barren walls. Modgudr understood what his arrival meant for Hel’s current state. And finally entered, albeit reluctantly, to retreat to. If she stayed longer, she would bring herself in serious danger.  
  
¨ Modgudr? ¨  
  
The giantess stopped but did not turn around. Avoided Hel’s look intentionally. That made it easier after all.  
“I'm sorry.” she heard Hel say softly, this time almost pleading. ¨ I want to be alone with Loki. I want to know him better.¨ she added quickly to additionally mitigate her rough sound.  
And Modgudr believed her. Of course, she believed her. She knew this game so well, it was just one of many déjà Vues. Too often. Far too often. Slowly, she became old.  
  
¨Do not get **too** attached to him. ¨, she implored the goddess, as she had done in thousands of occasions before, ¨ The Thunderer is as notorious as persistent. He will not give up until he has found a way to take him away from you again. And until then, you might return him voluntarily. The longer the time a dead man has spent in here, the faster he forgets his identity and everything which shaped his personality when he lived in the upper world. Then he’s just a vessel without content. An empty shell. It’s the same with every mortal. They go to waste.¨  
  
Hel drew in an outraged breath.  
  
¨ But Loki is not a mortal! ¨ she argued stubbornly, fabric rustling. ¨ He is a **God**. For him it will take much longer until he disintegrates. ¨ Modgudr sighed.  
¨ Nevertheless, it is a temporary process, love ¨, she taught Hel, ¨ You lead death where he needs to be, but you are not his last link. You can neither stop this, nor even reverse its effects. You should know best. Even your mother was lost hopelessly, and we both remember every fruitless attempt we have made in this case, don’t we? ¨  
  
Hel snorted.  
  
¨ I'm too old for sermons. ¨  
  
¨ For this, you’ll never be too old ¨ the giantess replied, waved, without turning back again. ¨ Enjoy it, delight in him  as long as he is able to amuse you. When Thor comes to us next time he won’t recognize him anyway ¨  
You could hear her thumping footsteps in the hall. The crunch of a rusty lock. A door that was slammed shut with force.  
Hel listened for a while on whether Modgudr had disappeared from the house or not. Out of habit she held her breath, which was really sad, for she wasn’t use to breath for ages. When she was allowed to be completely safe, that, finally, the giantess had left them to resume her place in front of the iron gate, she turned to Loki smiling, who was beside her bed as ever. The whole time he had not moved away a single millimeter. What for? She had given him no instructions to do so.  
  
Thus standstill. Logically, actually. But horrible.  
  
Hel looked at the jotun from all sides, inspected him curiously. She bit her lower lip. He was even more impressive, as she had seen him all the times in which she pursued his career in the upper world. The pallor was one of his unmistakable trademarks and shone like a pearl in the pale light of the room.  
The green of his eyes had become dark, she had to admit, but she always found that the profound darkness suited him more than the sun did anyway, which would have mirrored in his terribly bright iris, otherwise. It resembled his appearance a bit more, what they rejoiced secretly.  
Death became him well. Hel loved it. That was her verdict. And over the centuries she had forgotten to tolerate other opinions that differed from hers. With nimble steps, she went to her bed, settled straight down on it. She looked at the jotun. He stared straight ahead. His lips pressed into a thin line. Hel swallowed.  
  
¨ Loki. ¨ she began cautiously, tasted the flavor of the syllables on her tongue, patted the white hand invitingly beside her on the mattress, ¨ Sit with me. ¨  
  
the Intended spoke not a word, but did what the goddess demanded. He sat down beside her. His marble countenance hid any emotion. Hel smiled, posted the prompt to execute her command as a small triumph. But that did not last long. Now it was time to push the boundaries.  
  
¨ Take me in your arms. ¨  she said abruptly.  
  
Loki did as he was told. Not a second later his arms lingered around her thin body and Hel sighed blissfully at his silent chest. Although the body to which they leaned so trusting, gave her only cold, she felt safe and secure.  
She was happy, if to feel something like happiness was still available for her. Happy, because it had been eons ago that a man had touched her in any way. Every fiber of her rotting body was starving for closeness, for caresses. Caresses which Modgudr could not give to her. Instinctively, she dug her sharp spider fingers in the mantle fabric, clung to it.  
  
¨ Tell me that you hate Odin ¨, she continued, her voice almost cracking. Whether of joy or nervousness, she did not know herself. It was probably both, mixed with a touch of fear that Loki might reject her. As there had been so many men before that had done this often.  
  
Loki nodded as if he was in trance, split his lips. The words leafed dispassionately into the thin air, little lights in the gloomy atmosphere.  
  
¨ I hate Odin. I want to see him burn. ¨  
  
Hel giggled. She would have purred like a cat when she could have done this. Burned Odin.  
  
¨ Tell me that you wish Asgard would lie in ruins ¨ she demanded again, and could not wait to listen to the hypnotic baritone of her jotun again.  
  
¨ Asgard deserves to fall ¨, ¨ he replied immediately, emotionless, mechanical, “With all that breathes behind its walls. ¨  
  
If Hel had possessed a beating heart at this moment, it would have jumped out of her chest spinning wildly dancing and it would have danced at her feet implying a pirouette.  
She licked her lips hastily, pressed even tighter against the body of the former prince. A question. A final call lay on her tongue.  
The heaviest, the worst. The most beautiful.  
  
¨ Good. Now tell me that you love me. More than Thor. ¨  
  
Seconds elapsed. Minutes.  
She waited.  
Waited impatiently with anticipation and childish hope.  
But there was no answer.  
  
After a while she started frowning. Warily, she looked up. Loki still focused an undetermined point on the wall, as he had already done it in the beginning. His mouth remained closed, his eyes expressionless. This time he seemed not to feel compelled to obey her. That was strange. No, that was _out of the question_! Such a thing had never happened to her before!  
  
¨ What is wrong? ¨ she asked, holding out one of her hands and tugged impatiently at a night-black streak, allowing the head to wave on her side. ¨ Have not you heard? Say that you love me more than your brother! Say it! ¨  
  
Again. No reply. Hel felt terrible cold in her hollow chest. Colder than usual. A slight nausea collected her senses, dizziness announced itself.  
  
¨ Why don’t you say it? ¨ she asked again and it sounded more desperate than she wanted. ¨ Loki, why don’t you do as I say? Answer me! ¨  
  
It was downright palpable, perhaps brutal. Startled at the shoulders of the jotun and did not care, as the bones creaked in protest.  
Finally Loki opened his mouth.  
  
¨I am Loki”, he said simply, his voice hollow and sharp as shards of glass, ¨ And I am alone. ¨  
  
Hel did not understand.  
  
¨ B-but that's not true. I'm here. You're not alone! ¨ She struggled for words. Such a situation was foreign to her, and it annoyed her that she threatened to lose control. ¨ Y-you, you'll never have to be alone anymore! I'm standing right in front of you! ¨  
  
“I'm alone”, Loki repeated without responding to her calls, ¨ No one misses me ... I just wanted to be missed. By him. ¨  
His tone was bitter, received the illusion of anger, sadness probably, it was not obvious to filter out. But that was not important.  
Slowly, very slowly the goddess of death fell in panic.  
  
¨ No, no you're right, no one misses you. ¨ she said, shaking her head, her hair swirling in an airy arch, ¨ Thor doesn’t either, especially not Thor! And now tell me you love me! Thanks me I have persuaded you to commit suicide and to put an end to your suffering! I have brought you salvation! ¨  
Each of her words trembled, the more sets escaped, more and more resembled a supplication.  
¨ Please, Loki, tell me you love me for it! And that you never, never want to see Thor again! TELL ME. ¨  
  
To her own surprise, Hel soon realized that she was close to tears. How long ago was it that the echo of her weeping plowed Helheim’s underground and had hurt the ears of damned souls? She did not know. But emotions shook her she never thought she would be capable of them again. What did he do to her? The one that had been mentioned _silver_ _tongue_ in upper realms, punished her with his silence, his lack of cooperation.  
Why? She had believed they would be able to chain themselves in death. And yes, he did what she wanted, conjured for her, repeating her sentences.

Only one thing he did not. Something he had done in the world of the living eagerly.  
  
He could not bear false witness.  
  
He could not lie anymore.  
  
At this moment he burst before her eyes like a discarded porcelain doll, fell to the ground, writhing in agony. Hel screamed, struck with terror on her own reaction she put a hand to her mouth until she knelt down and framed his profile with her palms.  
  
¨ Loki. ¨ Her voice, her whole body swayed. ¨ Loki, what happens to you? ¨.  
  
She saw with shock how his flesh colored greyish, stains dug into the smooth skin. A skinny coal-black liquid dripped from his mouth. He tensed up, spat. Shapeless chunks of unknown origin swam in the puddle that wriggled through his throat and spread on the floor. If Hel would have been honest with herself, these pictures, this behavior was not strange to her. On the contrary, she had already followed it for the millionth time, watching the process in vile boredom. It was what Modgudr had spoken of, her warning.  
  
 _“The longer the time a dead man has spent in here, the faster he forgets his identity and everything which shaped his personality when he lived in the upper world. Then he’s just a vessel without content. An empty shell. It’s the same with every mortal. They go to waste.”  
_  
But why so early? Even for ordinary people it took at least a month until their brain vegetated to a pulpy mass and their memories paralyzed along with their tongue. Loki was not human. He was a god. A frost giant. _A god_ _among the frost giants_.  
¨ What did you do? ¨ the goddess whispered, pressing the stiff body in her arms as the mother who had once sacrificed herself, ¨ What have you done, my dear? ¨  
Loki said nothing.  
”Alone.” he said hoarsely then, each letter chopped off and crumbling as plaster. ¨ Now **he’s**... alone. ¨  
  
Then the petrifaction of his body happened. The hunched posture. His gaze still on her. The resounding silence ringing in her ears.  
Suddenly she wanted to cry _Mama_ , but her voice went unheard, because she was deaf.  
Death had taken away every sound. Again. This he did gladly.  
  
Loki did not wake up.

   
No matter how long Hel shook him and pulled, no matter how loud she cried and whimpered and cursed. He did not answer her. He was not breathing. He had not breathed the whole time! Hel did not understand it. She understood it less and less. She even slapped the dead, and the clapping sound echoed from the walls. Nothing happened.  
No emotion. Loki was not more useful than a puppet with stringes. The last spark in him was extinguished. No fire more.  
Hel remained in a strange trance. Her senses packed in cotton wool. Behind her, a movement. She turned around, mechanically. Her instinct told her to.  
  
The cat. The cat had come back.  
Rolled into a fur-covered ball she sat on the blanket, licking her right front paw and purring complacently.  
Her pinched face, her pink snout, her small little mouth. Disgust. Hel felt nothing but disgust towards her. A shower of ice crystales ran down her back, as she looked directly into the creature’s crescent-shaped pupils.  
  
The iris glowing around them was green. Light green, emerald green, _silver_ _tongue_ green.  
  
Finally she realized what had happened and at the same moment she hated herself for recognizing it. The goddess of the dead had been cheated by her own toys. Cheated by her own guilt. And it brought white heat burning thorugh her veins of which she would never have believed that she could feel it after all these barren, fruitless years.  
  
¨ You bastard! ¨ she cried angrily, scooped up a random object from the bed, caught a pillow and threw it at the fluffy beast, but missed it by a few centimeters. The cat did not move from the spot. Her loud meow got into Hel's ears for accusing ridicule what they could only be mad. Splitter for splitter the obscure situation added to an inscrutable mosaic. She had been so stupid. So horribly naive. The jotun had betrayed her. In death and beyond.  
¨ He gave you the rest of his life intentionally, didn’t he? DIDN’T HE !? So he doesn’t need to obey me! He is useless! ¨ she barked at the only creature in the room, which was blessed with a regular heartbeat and warm blood in its veins.  
Her tone was nourished by her overwhelming despair, her rage, her vulnerability, her regret, oh, how she regretted all this now ...  
  
The cat watched her bustle with an almost ecstatic interest.  
Her purr came deep, rumbling steadily in her rising and falling chest.  
  
Hel inevitably compared it with distant thunder. And she wept bitterly.


	4. Blinded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor makes a decision.

Thor stood on the balcony of the royal palace and looked into the silent night.

The town underneath his feet lay still like a sleeping creature. It was quiet. A peaceful rest. As if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t got out to the Norse hell two hours ago. As if he hadn’t found Loki dead in his cell barely half a day ago. As if all this had been only a stupid, stupid nightmare. Thor pressed his fingertips into the solid stone ledge of the porch. Oh how he hoped at the bottom of his fearful heart he could escape this precarious situation by an incessant tweaking in the upper arm. Opening his eyes to find himself in bed. And then run into the dungeons and encounter Loki, sitting on his bed and reading a book as he always did.

Loki, as he rested his furrowed forehead on his shoulder.

Loki, how he laughed at him, mockingly.

Loki, how he looked at him until his emerald eyes sharpened with his topaz gaze.

Silence. The minutes ran through the trackless dark like wandering strangers.

Loki, as he cocked his head and asked what had happened, the baritone hostile, but milder, smoothing the intention behind it with care.

Loki, who claimed himself to hate him. Again and again. An infinite loop. The false hesitation behind. The lie between numb lips. The test pattern that should have been meaningless, but wasn’t. The imagination. The pain. The suffering. Fear. Fear for what, actually? Silence. No words for it. No words anymore.

No words but one. **Loki** ...

He wanted to shout into the night to denounce the injustice he suffered. Take off the burden weighing on his shoulders, and much worse, on his conscience. How should he decide? He didn’t want to choose between his brother and his father. Especially since the old man lay in coma for a month again and couldn’t bring up any resistance or fight. Such a murder wouldn’t only be heartless, it would be disgraceful, a dishonorable work. Thor couldn’t do it, was incapable of such action or at least he refused to be. This requirement was a single, perfect cruelty. So what to do then? What to do then...

He flinched almost imperceptibly as a slender hand touched his forearm. Frigga stood beside him, leaned against the solid affected railing. She said nothing. But she was here.It was almost enough to make the Thunderer cry. He cleared his throat. His tongue felt dry. As if he hadn’t spoken for years.

“She wants father” he said in a husky voice. His mother nodded. Her face showed no apparent horror. She didn’t seem surprised much.

“A life for a life.¨

She sighed. Shady trenches digged under her eyelids. Her crying had subsided, but the traces remained.

“What shall I do? I **can’t** sacrifice father.”

“Oh, you already know what to do. But you don’t want to know. You’re a loyal son."

She smiled at him. Her mouth held a thin, joyless line. A charade. Her true joy had gone to Helheim with Loki and died there. Thor couldn’t bear the view, so he turned away. The sea of glowing points was dearer to him than the extinct features of his mother.

“Hel told me a story. A story about my father and her misery.”  The words went like sandpaper on his tongue.  “Did he really ...? ¨

He said no more. Frigga breathed slowly.

¨Yes.¨ She smoothed a fold of her dress. Thor realized the noise, the soft rustling.  “The prophecy said she would be one of those disasters to usher Ragnarok. Her birth was predestined and inevitable. Odin had spent years looking for her and finally found her as little girl, together with her mother. There was no trace of her father. He took her away and threw her down into the darkest gap he was able to find. He assumed her to be dead, but she survived and what should be her grave soon became her own kingdom. And the bad omen grew into a dangerous queen." A volatile movement from the corner of his eye. The back coating of a honey-colored hair strand. “Your father is a king, but not a saint” she said, and it didn’t sound bitter at all, just a bit tired. “He has flaws, as we all have. As you. As your brother. But he's a good man. He’ll always be.¨

Thor turned to her. Their eyes met. His heart pounded painfully against his chest.

“Loki is a good man,too "he said, and didn’t prevent the blurred sight in front of his eyes. He blinked. “Although he betrayed us. Although he killed. At the end he even killed himself for his hate towards us has grown so incredibly strong. But I can’t leave him there, you understand? I can’t do it. AndI know he‘ll only hate me more fervently after his return.” Every sentence brought his bass clearer to trembling. “I miss him”, he whispered, choking. “He shall hate me if he likes to. He shall call me names and curse me for the rest of our lives. So let him! Let him do all he wishes. I miss him more than I can bear.¨

Frigga ran her thumb over his right cheek.

“I know.” she whispered, the blue of her iris was a deep sea and pulled him down to the damp ground, drowned him. “I miss him, too.¨. Then she took off her fingers, put his hands in hers. “You'll do the right thing.” she said, carrying a melancholy train around the mouth, “Remember, we are Asgardian gods. The only ones Hel must beware facing of. We’re the ones she learned to fear and hate equally.”

After that she went, leaving the thunderer alone with himself and his thoughts. While he watched her as she faded behind the velvet curtains, he realized no matter what he did, she wouldn’t interfere. Not even if he really should decide to assassinate Odin, his beloved father and her beloved husband, in his sleep. This knowledge meant a macabre relief to him. On the other hand, pure horror ran like pieces of glass over his spine. Bitter bile spread like a blanket over his tongue, let him stop breathing, swallowing. Scattered beads of perspiration took their winding path down his temples. He thought about it. About everything. Feverishly and manic. Let the voices of past events and hours reminisce before his mind's eye. He clenched his fists, his fingernails picketing in the flesh of his palms. Blood seeped through, deacorating the floor with heavy, dark drops.

_"Remember, Odin was the one who once threw her as young girl in this dreary gap and gave her existence in the hands of fate . She hates him more than life hates her . I think she will make the example of you which old Odin denied her for so long ."_

_“Don’t worry, even a god dies sometime. Make sure you fall in battle, then Valhalla may greet you."_

_"I allowed you to see Loki one last time with your own eyes, but also **I** am bound_ _by ancient laws. One of them forbids me to tolerate a living being in the kingdom of the dead. Another prevents me from what is dead to come alive again. Unless death itself cherishes compassion._ ”

_“He is dead. Only those who share this condition he is allowed to perceive.”_

The first foothills of tormenting migraine circulated in his mind, pounded against his skull.

_“You are a good son and a good brother. But you don’t know what true love is. And you cannot give something which you know nothing about.”_

__“Remember, we are Asgardian gods. The only ones Hel must beware facing of.  We are the ones she learned to fear and hate equally.”_ _

_“We are **gods**.¨_

The knowledge overtook Thor like a flash. He shook at his own idea, and yet he felt asif he had been thinking about it all the time without understanding.

Of course. There **was** a possibility. His eyes darted to Mjolnir weighing lazily on his belt. He was sure there was a pact, a deal he could even make tasty to a stubborn creature like Hel. It was an ultimatum. The most precious thing he had to give. Not comparable with jewelry, fame, the satisfaction of any worldly desires. Something so pure, unadulterated that Hel couldn’t help than to accept it, to yearn, to crave.

He immediately went to the lower floor, ran to the stables where Sleipnir was bound. Only when Thor constantly assured him that this time they _would_ bring Loki back home under all circumstances, the animal was tame and let him rise on his broad back without resistance. Thor didn’t even need to tell him to move - Sleipnir galloped madly already, crossing the royal courtyard in a rush. The venture was as absurd as risky. But did he even had a better choice?

A feeling of weightlessness took hold of him when Sleipnir broke from the bonds of earth and rode into the sky. He needed no instructions. The stallion knew the way.

 

* * *

 

 

“You're early, thunderer.” Modgudr greeted the crown prince coldly when she saw the norse god running towards her with flowing cape, while the stallion leisurely trotted beside him.

She tilted her beefy body to the side, inspecting what might be waiting behind the two. She found nothing and snorted. “I see you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t stab the allfather’s back.¨ she muttered without malice. Her squabbles were long gone. At the latest, after she had found Hel whimpering like a baby next to Loki's rigid body. She sank back into her previous position, rubbing her tense neck. What came now, she thought to get over with quickly. Quick enough to mitigate the torment that would arise therefrom. 'Spoiled' for the god of thunder, of course.

“Well, I wonder, why did you even made yourself the trouble of turning up here?”

Her beloved Garm (her growling companion) sat to the left and showed his teeth. She wasn’t afraid. In fact, she was too old to be afraid.

“The trade failed. No Odin, no Loki.” she reminded Thor unnecessarily, stood groaning and stretched until her limbs cracked. “If you’re planning to pave your way to your jotun violently, I’d advise you to be careful with your bloody thoughts.” she said good-natured, smiling at him wide and wrong. “I’ve conquered heavier chunks than you, I killed millons of men before you weren’t even in the planning stage of your parents. ¨

Thor said nothing to this note. His gaze was fixed on her form. Dark determination was reflected in his iris. Modgudr registered the change in his appearance, but had no special meaning to it. Nevertheless, she didn’t take her weapon at hand. It had time. Also, Thor's hammer hanging from its traditional place didn’t seem intended to be used in that moment either. Thor’s previously impressive image seemed sunk in itself, clunging on Sleipnir’s body to support his weight. The light enveloping him was dimmed. Modgudr raised a beaded brow. Well, it surprised her but not in a good way.

She didn’t like the look in his eyes. It was very ... stubborn.

“Are you thinking about  killing her? Completing the work of your father? ¨ she asked.

She didn’t believe her own words, though it wouldn’t be the first time a survivor went down here with the oh-so-brave order, to cut the head of the goddess of death from her fragile neck. Her suspicions focused rather on Odin's blood heritage that flowed in the veins of his son, as to the real situation. Yet she asked. On principle. She didn’t think Thor would lie to her. For this his mind was too simple.

The prince shook his head in reply. Slowly.

“I haven’t come here to commit a murder in the realm of the dead, Modgudr.¨ he replied wearily, saying her name in strange irritation. “I'm here because I want to suggest Hel a better covenant. One which will suit both of us.” It was the first time that she wasn’t called 'giant'. Modgudr bowed her head. The miracle became more frequent.

“And what pact shall it be? ¨

“One which is not intended to be heard from your ears.”

She laughed. The prompt answer pleased her more than empty threats.

“Well well. You make it a secret then. Fine by me.¨

Behind her she already heard the familiar crunch of the opening gate. She smiled shallow. Hel had become apparently curious, or desperate enough to talk again with the Aesir. It appealed, how Loki's condition had developed in the meantime. If one went by the measures, which had taken Hel, it is likely it really go well ... However, well understood in this world as a relative. The thunder god let his horse stand immediately and proceeded towards the entrance without  honoring Modgudr with a last glance. “Wait,” she commanded suddenly and the sharpness of her own voice startled her. It had not been her intention to speak the prompt aloud. She had lost control of her tongue for a moment. That was unusual. In fact, Thor remained right on the threshold between the lower and upper world, but did not turn around. The giantess took some time, until she found the right words.

“You want to offer her another victim, am I right? ¨ she asked abruptly. She was not aware why she even wasted time and breath for this spoiled brat.

Now, Thor turned to her, looked at her askance.

“You might say. And? "

“Hel is picky. And stubborn. I don’t think she’ll agree.¨

“What you think is not of my concern.¨

“It should be.” Modgudr replied drily. The seething hatred for the arrogant Aesirs regained freshness. “At least I'm the one who has to endure such poor idiots like you because they wallow in their self-pity. Because they failed in their task.¨

Alarmed, Thor lift up his head.

“She ... she has done this before? Loki isn’t the first, on which she depend so much? ¨ he asked suspiciously. Modgudr shrugged.

“Not once. Thousands of times. I stopped counting. The goddess of the dead may escort the dead, but she isn’t more than a child. And this child wants a father who belongs to her alone, because she never had one before, neither in life nor death.¨ She sighed. Her thoughts drifted to Loki. Involuntarily, she hackled. “Keep that in mind when you see what she-“ she interrupted herself, “has done to improve your brother’s state. She only wanted his best after all.¨

Thor just looked at her. If she concentrated, she could see a glimmer of fear in the cobalt-blue eyes. And she wondered if it had probably been such a smart idea to taunt him on his first arrival.

For sure he was an arrogant, narcissistic, disrespectful stubborn man. No doubts about that. But he also was a concerned brother. Someone who had been torn from a beloved person. Without warning. Without argument. Without apology. Although he wasn’t the only one. Sudden deaths didn’t occur just among gods. Why should she treat him differently then?

He was also an Aesir. A representative of the people whose warriors were responsible for hundreds of digged tombs for her fellows. She had every right to scrape him like dirt at her feet, to mock him, to exploit his misery, to expand it even, if possible. But then she remembered the calls again, the echo she had heard screaming from the depths of Hades (without meaning to). About how the self-confident, arrogant bass was shattered in melodic fragments within seconds. The moment when he must have seen the unconscious jotun. Then she watched as he came waving through the grid after a while. Pale and bloodless. Weak. But he kept upright until his stallion bowed his head down offering him to climb up his back. Garm had watched the horse together with his rider beside her and whimpered deeply until both were merged with the horizon.

It was against her nature, but ... Modgudr had pitied him.

This simple-minded prince and his unfortunate counterpart. Only for a heartbeat. The breath of a moment. It had been enough to go to Hel and question her about the following events. And now, hours later, she looked at the thunderer intensely for the second time and suddenly knew why Loki, the hostile, eloquent silver tongue, had finally been lulled in by Hel’s sweet promises and shattered the vase.

“What has she done? ¨ he asked roughly. His voice lacked any emotion, was hard as iron.

“Tell me. What happened to Loki? ¨ The gentle swaying at the end of his sentence didn’t detract from its meaning.

The guard scratched her head. She wasn’t comfortable with such things. But now it was out and the path prepared. She thought of Hel's security, about what Thor could do to her despite her near-immortality. Even if death couldn’t occur, nothing and no one was immune to pain. Although she’d serve her stepdaughter as a portable shield without hesitation, she knew the wounds she beared would only heal after many years. Her meat was thicker and tougher than most, but hadn’t become resistant through the ages. She swallowed.

“The longer the dead remain in Helheim, all they accounted in their lives disappears in aqueous schemes destroying everything that once was dear to them.”, she said gently, folded her arms across her chest. “It’s a process that afflicts any mortal. But the duration differs individually. For some reason Loki has caught up very quickly with it and soon it was almost impossible to use as him as a doll. In any case, Hel didn’t want to give up on him, so ... she fed him with foreign souls to keep him alive.”

She looked at Thor searchingly. His body trembled from hardly suppressed rage. Lightning flashed in his eyes.

“So what? ¨ he rasped under tightly clenched teeth. Modgudr's glance fell to the ground.

“Well, it helped. It really helped. Loki's alive again. The problem is he had, for Hel nourished him soul after soul, to assume all the anguish and all the suffering that had happened in other past lives. He has experienced stranger deaths than his own by now, and his personality has cracked. Put it this way - when you meet him, you won’t _recognize_ him. Its interior is a splitter pile and you have to be careful that you don’t step into any of the pieces when you face him. He’ll want to cut you, whether consciously or unconsciously. He is no longer master of his own senses anymore."

“Why are you telling me this?"

“I have not the faintest idea. Maybe I want you to think about if the person you want to trade your life for is still worth all the trouble it’ll cause.¨

”This is probably my own decision.”

“I’ve never said otherwise ."

Thor shook his head as if he couldn’t believe he even _talked_ to the guardian.

“You can’t understand me. I’m an Aesir. You’re a giantess. You need to hate me." he muttered blankly.

Modgudr rolled her eyes. What a cliché (although it certainly wore a pinch of truth in it).

“And Loki is a jotun and you love him so madly you want to give your life for him, after all what he did to you”, she countered boldly. “Your judgments aren’t really reliable.¨

“I know."

Modgudr hesitated. Blinked a few times. Had the Aesir just given his consent !?

“You agree with me? I, a former resident of Utgard? ¨ she asked. She could hardly believe it. Thor shrugged.

“Why not? It's the truth.¨ His gaze into the near-by village those to which granted him the open door boldly intake. Alluring. Heischend. Deadly. “I’ll make no judgments more. They just bring evil upon those who mean something to me. This mustn’t happen again. I'll ... I'll put a stop to this. It has to end.“ he mumbled and Modgudr had to stretch the words in the air to understand him.

But what she understood, hissed her with anger.

“You’re a hypocrite. Like all children of Asgard are. What scolds you are merely daring excuses for everything bad arose through your work. Instead of taking responsibility you refuge in martyrdom so you can still feel gorgeous, even **proud because of your sacrifice**.¨

She spat the words out like polished arrowheads in the air, her quivering heartbeat drummed in her ears. She had enough. She was too tired of watching these miserable mortals, how these infants with stubble and hairy calves and sagging breasts committed the same mistakes of their actions every time anew. They didn’t learn. They never learned what it meant to actually make amends, let alone gaining an insight. They were stupid and remained stupid. Terribly dumb. And then they found themselves doing great. It disgusted her which illusions these creatures fed themselves to bear their own existence, even more, to give it a sincere _meaning_!

“What difference does this trade make for Loki, eh? ¨, she cried, her voice almost unrestrained echoing over the empty land. “What does it help to save his life, if you take your own death for purchase!? What do you think Loki will do then? What will he think? Of you? Of himself? It’s against nature to continue a lost existence through destroying another. It will break him permanently! And THIS will entirely your fault. He’ll never forgive you that. Never, you hear me? His self-loathing will be immeasurable.¨

The last sentences bubbled surprisingly quiet from her lips. She thought of Hel. Thought of her story, about Hel’s mother.

_Take me!_

She had offered herself for sale. Without hesitation, to protect her child. It had brought her into an early grave. Her act, her provocation against Odin's soldiers had been very naive. On the other hand, which mother would not have done this for her offspring? The love between mother and child was as old as life itself and could hardly be broken. Modgudr knew that. It was why it hurt so much to think of it. And that the stubborn, naive prig of a God was now going to do the same for his brother as Hel's mother did for her daughter, wasn’t any help. She didn’t really know what drove her by wanting to dissuade the thunderer’s decision. She didn’t know why she even cared about his fate or the jotun’s. Maybe because it was eons ago, since a survivor had gone into these murky realms and foolhardy required the refund of a deceased loved one, friend or relative for the last time. Maybe because she was too old and getting even older. With wrinkles came weakness. And with weakness came sentimentality.

Oh, how sentimental she had become... she even began to cherish sympathy for Aesirs. Her brain must had been damaged in this horrible, thick layer of mist.

Thor had patiently waited until the giantess finished her speech. He looked at her. Without rancor. Without anger. Without blood thirst. He just looked at her. His eyes were very, very tired.

“Don’t you think I know that? ¨ he said, and his bass suddenly rattled like cracked glass. “Don’t you think I don’t know what he will do? We constantly violated time of our lives with each other. Whether intentionally or accidentally was not of concern. It just happened today and will always happen. This is no surprise. It's law. Why is that so, you wonder? ¨, he asked , as he studied Modgudr’s puzzled face, laughed without humor. “Because we don’t know better. Because we’ve never learned to love each other in a different way. Every triumph leads to another defeat. In one case, the other stands on the podium. This scale has held all these years ... but everything must come to an end sometime, right? Sometimes you should stop jumping from one extreme to the next and remain in place, enjoy the tranquility. The deadlock. But it's hard for people like us. We are very impatient.¨

Modgudr saw something wet sparkling the god’s view, but he quickly turned his head to hide it from her.

“I should have realized we couldn’t go on like this much earlier. Because if we did, it would destroy us both one day. One kills the other, for the difference between love and hate has become fluent. And now it's too late and what I feared most has entered. Loki is dead, killed himself because of me. With pottery sherds.¨ Disarmingly he spread his arms. “I survived and see what few hours of his loss did to me. I'm a wreck. And ready to sacrifice myself for him. I’d do this for no other. Probably you cannot understand me, but the decision I have taken is based, not making amends to my own will. I don’t want to be a saint, because I’m not, neither are you. I’m just here to pay my debts.¨

As he spoke, he took a few steps deeper into the realm’s interior of the dead. Mjolnir knocked against his thigh with every movement .

“I’m modest. I just want something for him he never intended to have. Inner peace. Satisfaction. Forgiveness. A new life without me and without the shackles that we’ve imposed upon him. My wish is to know him happy for once at least. Even if it means I have to die in return.¨ He stopped. A cynical smile played around his mouth. “You may be right that he’ll curse me. So what if!? He always has. He is stronger than me. He’ll have coped with my death soon and then go his own way as he always did.¨ His eyes slid to the ground. Inspected the black-colored clods of earth as if they were a fascinating phenomenon. “Mother ... told us once, we would act like two halves of the same coin” he continued quietly. “Without one the other cannot exist. But that's a lie. Loki will live without me. And he’ll love it. As much as he’ll hate me for this, that he must be in my debt forever. It’s the only solution remaining to me. I don’t have…others. I never had.¨

He went.

Without even turning around one last time. Without saying goodbye to the guardian. He was trapped in his own thoughts. Had more urgent things to do. Modgudr stayed petrified. This honesty. This finality. And upon all this the words had rolled over an Asgardian tongue! Odin's son! She had never expected this. _Never_.

“No.” she whispered to herself, sitting down on a ledge. Garm trotted over to her immediately and put his chunky head on his mistress’ knee. He yelped. Absently she scratched him behind the furry ears and stared for a while to the point where the thunder god had stood.

¨No.¨ she repeated louder, talking to herself. “You’re the truly strong one. Not he. But you don’t want to admit it, how could you? You're blinded by love.¨

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts about this? Don't be shy ;3


	5. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor and Loki meet again. What will happen?

Thortastedashon his tongue.  
  
Hissteps ledhiminto nothingness,theareain front ofhimimmersedincottonyfog.  
He hadnotthe faintest ideawhere he exactlyshould findHel,trudgedblindlythrough the areadubiouslylooking out for her.Orratherthe one whomshe had takenunder her wing.  
Sometimeshe discovered some thingsat the bottom ofthe lonelydesert, askeletongrinning at himscornfullywithhisbareskullandbrokenjaw, duginthe wet sand.Here and therecrooked,weatheredgravestones stood outfrom thegroundandhit himon the shin, whichheknewto compensatewitha fewcurses,butotherwiserefrainedpain.  
From timeto timethere werequestionableforksandoncehe even founda streamfilledwithbloodlaterally pastscrapingingurglingmonotony.  
  
He swallowedhard.  
Histhroat feltlike fire.His palmswere sweating.  
Feverishlyhis gazeslidoverthe drearycountry.  
  
Where wasLoki?WouldHelallow him tomeet hisbrotherface to face?Would shegive hima call?One touch?A hug?  
And...would he want that?  
WhatModgudrhad confessed tohim,brought hima badpremonitionof whatcouldcome, and (to be honest)hewould havewelcomed a hostilearmy ofthousands ofsoldierswith laughter,afraid ofan encounter thatwouldcompletelydestroythe imageof his brother.  
  
 _“She had to feed_ _himwith foreignsouls.Tokeep him alive.”  
  
“Hehas experiencedstrangerdeathsthanhisown by now, and hispersonalityhas cracked.”  
  
“Its interioris a splitterpileand you have tobe careful thatyou don’t stepinto any of thepieces whenyou facehim.He will want tocut you, whetherconsciously orunconsciously.Heisno longerthe master ofhis senses. “  
_  
Thor'shandsearched for hishammer, catched the iron surface.The leatherbeneathfelt goodunderhisfingertips.Safe.Hard.Resistant.And heavenknew he needed resistancesorely.  
His thoughtswanderedoff.  
Hehad neverheard thatone couldincorporateforeignsouls.The very ideaseemedsuspiciousand yet hehardlybelieved that thegiantesshad a reasonto lie about it.  
  
More than that,shehadmost urgentlywarned himagainst it.  
Loki...whetherHelhadmade hima copy of herown?  
A creaturewithwitheredflesh,cold,lifeless eyesandsharp claws?  
Or had shemanaged toinstillthejotun witheven greaterhate,ashe hadalready preservedin his heart during lifetime?  
Thorstopped abruptly.Outwardly heremainedcalm,hetouched hisforehead,sighed.  
  
 _'_ _OhLoki,I know I made mistakes, but do I really deserve this?'  
_  
Thorwas actuallyafraidto find out.Hehad become afraid so often in several hours….  
  
“So you'vecome.¨  
  
Thor'sheartfrozeinitsrhythm,asheheard his brother’s voice behind him.

 The baritone,whom he lovedandhated, andinboth cases listened until the end, thoughit mightcosta fewwounds.  
The pitch, neutral,hypnotic.The syllablesgentle,sweet pouringpoison.Thegod of Thundertook a deep breath.And again.Andagain.Then heturnedinthedirection from whichhehadheard the voice.

  
Loki stoodthere.A fewfeet away from him.

They hadfreedhim from the coat hehad worninthe upper world.It had been replaced bya bizarreweb ofmudblackthreadsthatfloateddownfrom hisneck tohiships, then backtohisankles, constrictinghislean,sinewybodytightly.  
  
Theskin,whichflashed outfromthe freespacesbetween,gleamedghostly pale,green eyesstaredexpressionlessanddull.They sawthroughThorlikehewould not even exist.  
The Thunderer licked hislips nervously.  
  
“Are you...real?¨he askedroughly,secretlywonderingabout hisown,chokedvoice. “Or are youjust one ofHel'sillusionsthat wants tomock me?¨  
  
Thefigure,whichheldLoki'sappearance,smiled.It wasnot a happysmile,devoidof anyemotion.It wascontrived.Thenthejotunlaughed out loud.  
The soundrattledviolentlyin Thor’s ears,almostas if one rubbedtwoironcoins against each other.  
“Oh, my poorbrother.Don’t you recognizeme anymore?” _Loki_ spokeandmoved towardsThor.Hisslow, smoothtransitionrememberedof an animalstalkingitspreythat hadrecentlyleftofthechainandthenmusedonthe prowl.Thorfeltinstinctivelythe needto withdraworat leastto liftMjolnir to protect himself.Hedid nothing.Hewaited.Andyielded tohisfate.  
  
Loki(orwhatshouldconstitute“Loki”),only stopped whenhe stoodin front of theberserkerandtheirchestswere barely touching.Thor’srose and fellina more or lesssteady rhythm.Lokion the other handremainedimperturbablyinrigor.  
  
Every fiberinThor'sbodyrebelled,whileLokireached outadelicatehand to himand letitrest firmly onhisbeardedcheek.The touch ofclammyfingerswas coldas ice.TheThunderershivered.This situationwasnot safe.Somethingwas wronghere.Hecould not nameit.The smileof his brotherremained,soonbecamemanic.Fora passerbyitwas almost…innocent.  
  
“Whatis it?”he askedand stood ontiptoetobewithThoronthe samelevel,¨Didn’tyou want toseeme?¨  
  
“Yes. Morethan anything else.” Thorbrought outbetweengrittedteeth.Andit hurt,tosay it out loud.It hurtso **much**.  
  
His opponentbowed hishead,raised afinelyarched brow. “Butyou do not seemtobehappy tomeet me.”he said.The irisof his eyesdarkenedimmediately. “Oh,you only wanted tomake surethat I'm _really_ dead, right?Do not worry-becauseI am.AndI'm going to stayhere.Odinwillbe pleased.¨  
  
Thorwas startled.The wordsdippedinsimpledisappointment.Aresignation,as he knewfromthose who hadgiven up allhope.Without hesitationhe leftentirelygo off Mjolnir,wrapped botharms aroundLoki'swaistand pressedhim to his heated flesh.Hedid not know howheshould have reacteddifferently.  
This _was_ Loki.Somehowheknew that.Andat the same timeheknew thatthiswas not abouttheLoki, whom he hadbaptizedas his brother forall past centuries.  
He had becomesomeone else. **Something** else.  
Buthedid not want tothinkabout it.Notnow that hefinallyhadhim backin this moment,infleshandblood.Now he just wantedhimjustto feel, to buryhis nosein thewaxneckand breathe inthefamiliar smell,running his thick fingersthrough theravenhair, whichhehadsecretlyenviedhimin their childhood when they were naive and glorious and oh so pure and innocent… they did not know anything then.  
  
But no matter howdesperatelyhe triedjugglinghis mindaboutaharmonious union,hecould not ignorecompletelywhat hissenses told him.  
For theskin hesensedwascool,inhumanlysmooth andwithoutpulse. Itdid not respondto his touch,it did not evenreply with ashrug.There was nosmell hecould have taken in,because eventhesweet smellof decayHelhadwithdrawnhis brother.  
He smelled ofnothing.And said nothing.  
He did not complainwhileThorthreatened to break hisspine withhis yearning embrace.He did not offendhim.Was notangry with him.He did not even _yelled_ at him!Althoughhe would havehad enoughreason to do so.  
  
Abruptly,thinlipslaidonThor’stemple,ranlikebluntknife edgesagainst the sensitive skin.Thetip of the tongue,whichwe thought once should bedippedinsilver,slippedin between,lickedthe achievablesurface.  
AchucklevibratedagainstThor’smeat,roaredup tohis ears.It was not hisown.Andnotthat of hisbrother.It was thegiggleofthat _something_.Shortly afterwardsfiligreehands painted overhis broadshoulder blades,climbednimbly overhis neckandcaughtin his hair,grabbedthestrands,pulledat themplayfully,as if they hadnot feltsuch materialfor ages.Thegigglegrew louder,roseto hysteria.  
Here, thejotunpushedcloser and closerto thebreathing,throbbingbody,holding desperately onto him.Finallyheshamelesslybegan torubonthe warmflesh.Imagining.Respectfully.Subject.  
  
Lokiwastame.  
Gushinglike a child, burdened with drunknegligence, andeager likeawhore.Instead ofnit-pickingremarkshegavetheThundergoda sweetmoan thathehad never heardoutofthisthroat before.  
It was a beautifulsound, actually.Almostpeaceful.  
  
But to hisownsurprise,Thorrealizedthat it absolutelysickenedhiminthat second.  
  
His viewblurred,andthe environment aroundhimwore downtograyishshreds.He noticedthetears drippinghotandwetoff thecorner of his eyesandrandownhis face.Thesalty-bitter taste thatthey causedinhis mouthas soon asthey happened towethis lips,seemedmore real thanthe person wholaid in his arms.Loki’s giggleshad stopped.Silently helistened to thedrysobs thatrolledupinthethroatof the prince andcameto the surfaceinstaccatobursts.The handsinthegolden maneloosenedslightly,tugginggentlyat individualstrands.  
Like abowon the strings ofa violin.  
  
¨Hushbrother, don’t cry.”itwhisperedtoThorintreacherousamiability. “You cannot help it.Thismiseryissprungofmyownfault.Not yours.Dry yourtears.They are worth nothing here.¨.  
  
He spokeimploringly.Urgently.ButThordid not listen tohim.Wasincapable of it.  
It wasall a big,cruellie.  
 _'_ _Not your fault'._  
If only thatwas true.  
  
ButThorwas tiredhimselftosettle forflimsyexcusesor seekresponsibilityforsomeone else.  
Lokistoodby him,at this hour,in thisgodlessplaceandlooked atwiththe eyes of asoullessbanshee-This wasbecause of him.No matter whatconcatenations,whichhadothereventsandpreparationsmeanthe had beenthe trigger thathad takenall thiswithits tragicbeginning.Andhewouldbethere,withall thistookits end.Acomforting thought.Somehow.  
“I'll getyou out of here.”hewhisperedsoftly,came offa littleofLokito lookhim in the face,memorizingevery lasttinydetail of hismarbleprofile (becausehewouldperhapsnever seeitagain). “I'll getyou out of here, understand?And if it'sthe last thingIdo.”  
  
Lokimet himwith anunimpressedlook.  
  
“Idoubt this.”hesaid, andagainhescoredthisdemonicsmilethatseemedso outof placeonhis mouth.“There is notenough leftof me you could carryupon theintactsurface.¨  
  
Thorblinked.Theflood of tearsdried up,albeit slowly.At least hecould seeclear structures again. “What do you mean?”he asked,thoughheknew exactly whatLokihadsaid.He askedanyway.Justto hearhis brotherspeak.Lokijustsighed.  
“Put it this way...”heliftedlazily, “Helhasemasculatedmein a way,I’veneverdreamed of myself.”Hetook one handfromThor'sneckandpointed tothe spotwhereusuallyhis heartshouldhavebeaten. “Sheguttedme.With anindiscriminatelycut.Andthenshe laboriously patched me together, bit by bit.Honestly, Ifeel like abadstuffedrag doll now.Iamnot the sameperson I wasbefore.Andwhat Iamnow,seems to be even less welcomedthan my oldme.¨  
  
Thorshook hishead.Not becausehe thought Lokiwaswrong.But becausehecould not bear thetruth.  
  
“Everything will beokay.”herepliedvehemently, summed upthejotunto thebare shoulders, “I willask Helto returnyour life and yoursoul.Allofyoursoul.AndwhenIhave to fight for it, it shall be this way.¨  
  
Lokilooked at him.He shook hisheadvaguely.  
  
“No,Thor.”hesaid softly,his eyes narrowedto slits. “I think youdid not understand me.I **don’t want** **to go back**.¨  
  
He leanedbackwards generously andThordughis nailsinstinctivelydeeper intothe undeadflesh.Out of sheerfear,Lokicould drop,fall to the ground-andneverget upagain.Whatwould have beenthe casemost likely.Thejotuncommented on thereactionwith asound thatwas very close tothepurring of awildcat.  
“Mydear.”he said,stretched thevowelsto the utmost.“Mysimple-mindedhero.Mywonderfulbrother,evendescendsto the underworldto visitmeandtosave me fromdamnation.Youvirtuouscreature,how could Ijustearnedyour love?For that, Ishouldgive you something back...¨  
  
He spokeas inmania,euphoricandrelievedof anymoralbondage.Every praiseinThor'searssounded likethe angryhiss of athreatenedsnake.  
  
And suddenly there wasLoki'sfacea few millimetersbeforethe thunder god’s.Had hepossessedbreath,itwould haveslipped overroughlips,opening themominouslyin affect.  
  
“Rapeme.”the silver tonguewhispered.  
  
Andthus finallybroughtThor'sworldcrashing down.  
It wasas if he hadbeen blindthe whole timeandnowhiseyelidswould beforcedtofiretongs.  
He did not like what he saw.  
  
Attacked byimpetousdisgust,theThundererpushedhisbrotherdown on the groundmercilessly, watchedasthe slender figureimpinged onthe granularsoilanda short,staccatocryproved his fall.Nevertheless,thisdevilishgrindid not disappearfrom theonce beautifulprofile.Not for a singlesecond.  
Not even whenthejotuntried to stand up on his own,facing significant difficulties whenhis stifflimbshiredstubborn.  
  
“Whatareyou askingfromofme?”Thorspat, however,frombothhorrifiedas well asdisgusted.  
  
Hewas stunned and frightened. _Who_ _was this person!?_  
  
Loki, however,wettedhisthumb padwithsalivaandwipedover his leftelbowtemporarily,to remove tracesofdirt.Hepeeredpurposefullyover to theCrown Prince.Hewas withoutanyremorse.  
  
“Are you deaf?”hequippedinstead,showed hisglistening whiteteeth. “Rapeme.Cutthose uglyshredsfrom my bodyandsinkinto me, tearmy buttuntilit bleeds.Takenoregard.¨  
  
His voiceneverlost itscalm,serious,monotonoussound.Maybe that's whyit madeeverythingforThoronlymuch, muchworse.  
  
“Why?”  
  
He did notknowitactually.He was afraid ofthe answer.  
  
Lokitook astep towards him,but this timeThoralsotooka step back in reflection.Lokisaw itwith a snort.  
  
“I want to knowhow it is to feel aliveagain.¨life.”hereplied softly.Hisirises werebrightjade.“Andpain **is** life.That's what youtaught me.So come-fill mewith your _pain_.¨  
  
FeverishlyThor grabbed after his hammer.Nervously hefumbledathis belt-onlytoengage inan empty pocket.Thorpetrified.Shocked,heglanceddown at himself.  
Nohammer.Mjolnirwas gone,vanished into thin air.  
  
Thegod of thunderbroke outthebarewelding.  
  
“Loki,what's gotten into you?¨  
  
“Why?I thought youloved me?¨  
  
Lokilooked disappointed.A demon.Thorwasabsolutely certainthis was ademon. This creaturecould notbe hisbrother,impossible!  
  
“Andnowmysimplerequestisalreadytoo much for you?¨thejotunaskedwhilecontinuingin a melancholymanner,pointing his indexfingeraccusingly attheberserker.Hecame closer.Closer and closer,althoughThorsoughtto avoid it.  
¨Hypocrite.¨Lokirepeatedthe word ina rushingcanon,laughedmerrily,perverselyinhis element.  
Hypocrite,hypocrite,hypo-  
  
“Do not listen towhathesays.Heisnothimself.Themost patheticcreation I’ve everborn, to be true.”  
  
Lokipromptlybrokefromthe midst of hisquarrel,closed hislips.Helooked slightlyannoyed.Hishead jerkedabruptlyinthedirection from whichthestrange voicehad come.Hisneck jointwasdoing aterriblesmackingcrackling.  
  
“Oh,my ladyis there.”hecroakedsarcastically,danceda fewsteps to the rightanddida mockingbow.Thorfollowed himwithhis gaze andsawto hishonestastonishmentthat the femalecommandhad come fromHelherself, who showed upa few meters awayinhergruesomeglory.  
Her drabeyesremained fixedonLoki.His attitude, however, hadagainshiftedinthe horizontal.Every move, however smallthey might beacted,awkwardly,as if he wereon a stageand would makefaxingin front ofan invisibleaudience.  
  
“Greetings,your Majesty.”hepurredinhisunsurpassedmalice. “I seem to be everyone’sfavorite today.Is this afreshmaggotcrawlingout of yourleft ear?How nice thatyou try to get used to more company.”  
  
Heldid notanswer him.Instead,she turned toThor,whose eyeshad remainedconfusedonher right hand.Mjolnir weighedinit.Inthislight,delicatefist.Asifit were atoy.The deadgoddessrealizedat once whattheberserkeremployed,rolled her eyes.  
  
“Idon’t like him,but I don’t want causing him any unnecessary injuries, either.¨she explainedangrily. “Unfortunately, you Aesirshavethe sadhabit,to kill first and ask after.”  
  
Shewaited forThorto say something.When no answercame,she spoke again.  
  
“I have no desireto fight,Thunderer.”shesaid dryly.ThrewThor’shammerat himas if it wereapiece of wood.Hecaught itreflexively.She trieda fake smile,decoratingher faceinto aweirdgrimace.  
“Why don’t we strivefor a changelikecivilizedindividualsanddiscussour...¨Lokigave hera look thatmadehorrorsplay on her skin. “pitifulsituation in myhouse.Loki,Come.”  
  
Shebegan to moveandlooked over her shoulder to see, iftheberserkerfollowed her.  
When shesaw thatThormade no attemptto,she madean impatientgesture.  
  
“It will be not to your disadvantage.There isan offer.Forhim.¨she addedalluring,pointedpromisingly atthe jotun, who had toobey heragainst his willandwentclose toher side.  
Then sheturned around,wentahead.Nowshe heardheavy footstepsbehind herandknew thatshe had justejectedthe rhetoricalfishingandcaught anordicgod.  
  
Althoughshe didnot necessarilyfeel like it,shehad to smile.This time, itwas real. 

 

* * *

 

 

The oppressive atmosphere in Hel's simple, colorless dwelling chased Thor with a hail of broken glass on his back.  
  
His neck hairs stood on end as he looked at the shelves volatilely, in which were thousands, neatly dissected skeletons piled upon. During the millenia Hel had probably found a special _hobby_. On some subjects, Thor saw even golden framed plaques, in which scrawled words were engraved.  
  
 **PLAGUE** he read on one glass, malaria on the other. Although he had never acknowledged these terms before, he thought he had once heard his father talk about something that had dealt with a _Black Death_.  
A horrible disease, which killed thousands of mortals. A deadly, unfriendly disease. It shook him.  
  
Fortunately for him, the goddess of death soon resulted in her private chambers, where she sat down on the very edge of her bed, while Loki unaskedly stretched on the mattress and managed  a mature theater  by his pervered moaning. Thor contented himself with a stool that stood in a corner of the room, sat down. He waited. Hel waved.  
  
“Don’t be afraid to ask. I can see that you threaten to burst. Patience has never been a strength of you mortals anyway.” she said, seemed suddenly tired.  
Thor took a deep breath to moderate his rebellious heart, which wanted to jump out of his chest.  
  
“What happened to him? ¨ he said. “I know only what Modgudr told me. But I need the whole story.¨  
  
Hel narrowed her eyes.  
  
“I had to take a few souls of the lower layer.” she explained, as if this would be as naturally as breathing. ¨The brainless chatter of thy brother corresponds to the delusions of a murderer who has been driven on the loose in Svartaflheim 213 years ago. His victims were always shady, dishonorable characters. He has always only asked to rape him - then he beat them unconscious and tied them to the bedpost. When they woke up, he repaid them their… _service_ with the same outrage. Several times. Most recently, he cut off their testicles and let them bleed to death while he watched them. It is not easy, one dead instill awareness. Ironically, the murderers of souls have the most vital energy.¨  
  
Supporting her weight on her arms she leaned back, whistled the air hissing through herteeth.  
  
“Be glad you have not fullfilled his wish. A single kiss, and it would have been his permission to kill you.”  
  
“Evil Hel. Chatting about all my secrets without asking me.” Loki’s eyes grew unnaturally wide. “The is noooot nice.¨ he said reprovingly, his chin propped on his palm and his legs wiggled in the air. “Mean girl. Ugly girl without friends and without parents. Buhu, have pity on the bastard who lynched her mother -”  
  
“Loki, be quiet.”  
  
Hel's voice cut like a centrifugal blade through the atmosphere, but Loki barely barely reacted. He only laughed, as the goddess of the dead would have admonished him only because of his pure amusement.  
  
“You don’t tell me when I should be silent and when I should not.” he replied smoothly. With one fluid motion he turned to Thor, licked his lips in humming. “But my big brother here, maybe I would obey _him_ , yes ... “ A lecherous smirk on his face. “Assuming he makes me scream a few hours before.¨  
  
Thor ignored this comment, studiously staring at Hel alone, who sullenly dropped her shoulders. Her claw-occupied fists clenched on her small lap. She was not happy that Loki rebelled. On the one hand the Thunderer felt a hint of satisfaction. On the other hand, he loathed himself the being that spoke with Loki's voice and just full led sensual circular motions with his hips. For heaven’s sake, he did not recognize him!  
  
“You came here to praise your life in return for Lokis’s, right? ¨ Hel suddenly grabbed Thor and almost fell from his stool in shock.  
“Yes.” he replied quickly, dug his fingers into his legs. “ I thought that the soul of a god is more precious to you than  the remains of a misguided frost giant would be.¨ he affirmed, to give himself a sense of security.  
  
Hel,therefore, gave him a disapproving look.  
  
“So what? “ she demanded bored.  
  
Thor hesitated a little, but put his hand immediately.  
  
“And ... I thought you'd prefer  the biological son of Odin more than the adopted one.¨ he confessed. “As the ultimate punishment for the allfather.¨.  
  
Hel leaned forward slightly.  
  
“Punishment? ¨ she repeated doubtfully. Thor grunted.  
  
“Yes. What is worse for a father - to die or to see his child die in front of his own eyes? ¨ he asked defiantly.  
  
The dead goddess tilted her head, wondering. She nodded reverently.  
¨That’s true.¨ she said, leaning back again. “But I would not have agreed with your bartering anyway. I'm not a monster, Thunderer. I don’t disconnect any mother of her child as your father did with me and my mother.”  
  
Thor's lips fell into a thin line.  
  
“You took Loki away from us.” he disagreed and had trouble keeping his burgeoning anger under control. If Hel noticed this, she did not mind.  
  
“Your father stole him from his home when he was a baby and your mother has adopted him. This loss is not the same. He’ll cope with it.¨  
  
Thor wished to beat her in this moment. With the back of his hand.  
He would have had no regrets.  
  
“No, it does not matter. Mother loves Loki as her own flesh and blood, no matter what family he originally came from.” he paused, cleared his throat, “And I... I feel the same. Loki is my brother. My friend. My enemy. My second half. You've taken him away. From us. From me. That was not right.¨  
  
“ Don’t tell ME the difference between right and wrong! ¨ she hissed at him. “Remember what Odin did to me. How shall I idly sit and watch Loki overtaking a similar fate !? YOU had already abandoned him! ¨  
  
The words were sharpened and reached their destination without encountering resistance. Thor swayed a little, but he gave no sign.

  
“No one is perfect.” he replied haltingly, behalf locating of the wise words of his mother. “We all make mistakes. Most of them are errors that we don’t even want to forgive ourselves. Not as long as we live. But Loki was not ready to die so far. It should have been entirely his decision. But you took it from him.¨  
Thor sighed. Boomed his head, feeling incredibly heavy.  
“I think we both are wrong to Loki committed, he said, looked up, but I can not until my make up, if you awaken him to new life. Give him back what you have taken from him, I beg you.¨  
  
Hel did not answer. Minutes passed in which she changed a word with him.  
Thor tried meanwhile to avoid any eye contact with his brother, who apparently made fun of them both, lolling in various poses lasciviously on the bed. The giggling, which he uttered, called nausea in the thunder god’s head.  
  
“You may make so many smart speeches as you want, but you're still a silly fool.” Hel finally said. It was as if she drove a stake into the heart of the Thunderer- “I already told you – also I am bound to ancient laws which I have no control over. I don’t have the power to allow Loki living his old life at the surface. Only death can. And death is a very nasty journeyman.¨  
  
Thor remained. Long. Then he stood up with such force that the stool fell over and hit on the floor with a deafening bang.  
“Why did you piloted me into your house then? ¨ he exclaimed indignantly, shaking all over. ¨Did you want to gloat at my remaining hope? Consider my suffering from the nearest spot? ¨  
Bitterness bubbled from each of his syllables. He did not have much left as this bitterness.  
It was true what he had said to Modgudr. Deep in his heart, he was a broken man.  
  
Hel watched him undauntedly.  
  
“No.“ she said quietly, tapped her fingertips together. “I told you I will make an offer. You'll hate it.”  
  
Loki had meanwhile intoned a song that seemed to have no steady rhythm. The verses he sang mockingly, proclaimed all of murder, blood and a woman whose limbs were eroded alive.  
Thor snorted.  
  
“Tell me.” he growled. He had no choice.  
  
The goddess nodded. Then she took two of her fingers and put them in her mouth. A shrill whistle sounded through the air. Thor heard a rumble behind him. Then the toddle of furry paws that stumbled down the hall. Two minutes later something soft rubbed along his left ankle. Puzzled, he looked down at himself.  
  
A cat.  
In fact, it was a cat.  
Borken brown fur covering her slender, agile body, one of the ears had an interface. But what really captivated Thor, were the eyes of the miaowing creature.  
Green eyes.  
He knew this green. Better than anyone else.  
Obedient, the animal trotted towards Hel, jumped on the bed and curled up purring on the lap of the goddess.  
Hel hardly moved.  
  
“Do you see this cat? ¨ she asked the Thunderer drily, who remained silent. “It did not arise in a natural way, as one might think.” she explained. “Loki has created it from a skeleton, banished the rest of his own life force into the animal’s body. One of his small, shabby tricks, so he did not have to bow for me. I cannot refund him the entire time that he would actually occupy in normal standards. But with the energy he has left to the cat, I can give him a resurrection of seven days, no more, no less. On the night of the eighth day, he will not wake up, his mind must permanently stay in Helheim then. He will forever be out of reach for you. Do you understand? ¨  
  
She looked sharply at Thor. Her eyes glittered. Her beautiful face half pressed now from honest regret.  
  
“I know seven days are an outrageously short period, but they are the only possibility I can offer to you.” she replied, almost apologetically. “But it is more than millions  of petitioners have received from me before. I admit that I cannot mantain Loki’s state, as he is now. Ultimately, I can only give him eternal rest. Peace. Before this, you may still bring him a nice week. He ... he truly loved you, you know? Even if he never admitted it.¨  
  
Thor stood up and looked at her. At her and the cat.  
In his mind the thoughts ran amok, formed a raging storm, warnings of fear, realism and longing. He licked his lips. Scratched his neck.  
  
“Will he ... will he be _Loki_ again? ¨ he prompted softly. The blood pounded in his ears.  
  
Hel shrugged.  
  
¨This I cannot promise you with the best of intentions. The souls I nourished him with caused considerable damage. I’m unable to tell how serious it will show in his living state.¨  
  
She took one hand and ran reluctantly over the fur of the cat, which purred even louder. It served as a quirky companion for the next song, the humming Loki himself forget. This time, he negotiated stanzas of a hiker, who had a fornication with an Arabian mare and drove it in the highest terms with joy. Loki brought this pleasure out very authentic.  
  
Thor made a decision.  
  
“Seven days.” he repeated. His heart splittered with every letter rolling over his tongue. “Please, give him back to me for seven days. _At least_ seven.¨  
  
Hel wordlessly pushed the cat off her lap and stood up. Her gaze was brisk and her lips showed a dry line. She seemed to have expected the crown prince’s decision not otherwise.  
“As you wish.¨ She closed her eyes. Her arms folded over her chest, her mouth muttered a few words in a language Thor could not understand. Loki's singing stopped abruptly. It was not long until he stumbled on the sheet, shaking uncontrollably. A choking seized from his throat. The blank look directing at the ceiling, he sagged. The black threads that had caressed his skin began to sizzle, broke away from the meat and snaked up through the floor, on the walls, until they passed through the niches.  
At the same time grayish plumed smoke ran from the half-open pair of lips, joined the threads in the world outside these walls.  
  
Lost souls who set out on their journey to Nirvana. Again.  
Loki’s naked, hollow body went limp within seconds, as if one had cut the cords of a puppet. Finally he lay there. Motionless. Lifeless. Dead.  
Thor felt sick to see him this way. Silently, he watched as Hel pushed the eyelids and the jaw of his brother down. She snapped her fingers. Promptly, The cat’s fell lost all its hairs, including the preferred meat,  grinding to greenish glowing dust and crawled to where Loki's heart should beat. As there were no skin of jotun, the dust sucked silently through, protested itself into the domestic body. When the last grain was dissolved, Hel rose from the bed, meant to address the jotun for Thor’s own will now.  
  
She did not tell him twice.  
  
Without hesitation he stepped to Loki, opened the clasp that held his cloak and wrapped him carefully in its burgundy velvet. As if he were made of porcelain, he lifted his brother gently on his arms wide. He weighed nothing, weightless as a feather.  
Thor swallowed. If he had at least opened his eyes and winked at him in exasperation as h e did so often in their youth ...  
  
Before he threatened to digress into past memories, he noticed a black rose, floating to malign him. Reluctantly, he reached out his hand and took it on its spiny stem. The flower throbbed almost in ominous energy.  
  
“Take this rose with you.” he heard Hel say next to him. It was not a request.  
“It will remind you of the time that remains with your brother. When the last petal falls, his heart stops and his life will dry up. Forever. I would advise you to make the best of it.“  
  
And this was by no means a well-intentioned advice, but a strict requirement.  
  
Thor honored her with no response. Silently, he went away without giving her a final word. Purposefully he crossed corridors and rooms until he stepped out of the door and wandered through the flat wasteland. The fog had grown lights, clear structures could be identified.  
  
 _Only away. Away from here._  
  
He had enough of this world, the one dragging the life force from his bones and saturated with alien souls. He longed for the fresh air of the upper realms, the warm sun of Asgard on his skin. And Loki’s tender voice. Free of all the madness that had befallen him within these few years. This time the Aesir did not need to look for the right path.  
His steps led him directly to the wrought-iron gate. Impatient Sleipnir got excited with the sighting of Loki, trembled in unbridled joy as he trotted towards them. Thor recognized the stallion nudged him with his nose on the arm, but then turned his attention entirely to the cruely missed mother substitute, pulled carefully at a midnight black streak with his front lip .  
Thor saw the horse in his irreverent bustle and laughed.  
Guffawed. Without reason and without rhyme.  
He thought he had left behind his laughter in Hel. Now it had returned along with his brother.  
  
Now.  
For seven days. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos give Thor hugs and Loki kisses and comments make me give you some more damn chapters!


	6. Wake up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki wakes up. But how does the time spent in Helheim affect him now?

Never before Thor had felt the need to give the time some characteristics.   
  
For him it was an incorporeal thing, therefore no person and no feeling in the truest sense. Although he had always believed that the time would be on his side, for the frail aged beings died early while he as a god lived for several millennia. But it had seldomly bothered him, whether days, whether weeks, whether months passed and not infrequently he expected the morning without having really known yesterday.   
But now, after the events had skipped within seconds, minutes, hours, it seemed to him as if time suddenly no longer disembodied but had become liquid. Like fine sand, which he grabbed with both fists, but grain by grain trickling helplessly through his fingers. And there was a beast with a mouth as big and wide as the gloomy pied space. In his imagination Thor saw a hydra of frightening proportions, one that did not demand blood, no soul, but the pure life of his prey, devouring it with hair and skin, until nothing remained except a collection of blank licked bones. The Thunderer tried to close his eyes, but as soon as he tilted the lid just for a heartbeat, it soared upward again, the focus frantically on this pale figure located a few meters away from him in his bed, taking breath for breath. Thor was unable to remember exactly when Loki had begun to breathe again. He cared little anyway. The mere fact that a new, temporary life pulsed through the veins of his brother had been enough to him to shake his broad body in a moment of laughter, but almost falling to his knees in the next making him break out in tears shamelessly. Since then Loki's hand was placed on his, he drowned often in the rollercoaster of emotions, which he does not necessarily displeased, but currently unavoidable anmutete.   
  
Thor blinked, cast a searching glance around the room. The ruby-colored glimmer of dawn made his way through the curtains and threw threatening smoldering shadow on Loki’s temporarily covered body. They were in the private apartment of the former prince. Thor had thought it might be better if Loki would wake up in his own bed and room. After all, everything was better than the unloved prison cell.   
With every millimeter the dim light climbed over the pale sheets, Thor became more impatient. He waited for half an eternity already sitting on the bedstead and he could not help himself squinting to the rose he had placed on the bedside table in close proximity in a vase more often than necessary. Their black coloration and the bulbous shape of its vessel, inevitably reminded Thor of an urn, almost proclaiming death and decay. Awkwardly driving through his tangled hair, he let out a deep sigh, leaned back slightly.   
  
Seven days.   
  
Seven days Hel had given him as a reprieve. A patronizing gift. A tough, volatile curse, to say least.   
What should he do with seven days? Thor was much, but certainly no fool. When Loki’s blinking stopped off back into the world of wax ends, everything would be the same.   
Loki would not thank him for his rescue from Helheim. Loki would not let fall tears on his neck and cover him with kisses and ask for forgiveness. No, the opposite would occur. He would hate him even more (if that was even possible). Would be even angrier. Even more dangerous. Still bitter. They would hardly settle their feud within seven days, let alone in seven weeks, seven months, seven years!   
Hel had interpreted this gesture of postponement as a favor. An act of compassion. But was it really? Was this not truly a perfidious vengeance against the transom, in whose veins the blood of Odin cooked? Thor would lose Loki. It was an undisputed fact and it hurt every time intensely when he reminded himself of it. But not only that he would lose Loki - he would do it in the knowledge that his brother hated him to the root of his being and undauntedly wished him the plague gnawing on his flesh. Either way Thor's action was doomed to failure. He could heap Loki’s reproaches and threaten him with violence, practicing this violence or crawl to the ground and bow to him, as the people used to do for his father. He could pull him close and kiss him until his lips jumped off and blood glistened on his tongue. He was able to hold him in his arms for seven days, until the last petal fell, and Loki's existence was finally forfeited. He could scrape his eyes out for Loki, could serve as a living, chained plaything. Could feel the whip. Suffer the punishments of which his brother claimed that they had been self-inflicted by his fault. He could let himself be impaled, quartered, suffocated, drown, set on fire. He could just lie with his brother and listen to his peaceful breathing, stroke a few drops of sweat from his forehead and let his own despair run wild. Or he could put his own hands on the pale throat and squeeze until the agony was endured and he was left with a corpse’s company.   
Yes, he could do all that and much, much more. But what would have been the end? The result would have remained the same. There was no happy ending, you could seek. This worked in any fairy tale, but was in reality it only was screaming nonsense.   
  
It was not fair. It was absolutely not fair. But what was even fairer than death in this life?   
  
At that moment, the first petal of the rose floated with pleasurable severity on the cedar wood of the table. Thor had preferred to just pack it, throw it out the window and douse with lightning, but his hands were tied. The loss of the flower would also result in the immediate loss of his brother and he was not yet ready for it. He would never be ready, he tuned out intentionally. Never.  
Creeping migraine found its way, pounding aggressively at his temples, as Thor sought to suppress the germinating anger that swelled like a fruit inside him and pressed on his heart. He looked at his brother. Looked at the fair porcelain skin and jet-black hair that lay spread out on the pillow like a narrow fan. His eyes got stuck on a particularly daring streak, rebelliously peeled off the remaining hair and swung in like a curved sword between Loki's delicate brows. Following an arbitrary reflex, Thor stretched out his right hand, slid his fingers over the smooth forehead, and stroked the uninvited streak behind hisleft ear. The skin he touched was cold as ice, but also soft and firm. How long it actually had been since he had touched his brother without a predominant intention? Without the warning behind it, the anger, the brutality? Without the goal of stopping him, to put an end to his madness? He did not even know why he did this at all, yet, what it should bring. He was simply a need and if you had asked him about it, he would probably have quite simply claimed the disturbance of the overall picture would have startled him. A ridiculous justification, if you wanted to criticize him. Just as Thor back his hand again, Loki suddenly began to rain. It was not much. A twitch perhaps, a delicate head turning in his direction. A small opening between the colorless lips. A murmur without words and structure.   
But it was enough to chase a bloodcurdling chill down Thor’s spine. Abruptly he leaned forward and rested his arms next to Loki's head and brought his face so close to his, that their noses met in all scarcity. In his pupils lay an eating fire. Not the one that broke out usually in battles, the flames born from the ashes of the vanquished.   
  
“Wake up.” he said. Although he whispered, his voice swelled to the farthest corners of the room.   
No response. Loki did not move and didn’t seem to try in the next few hours. Thor clenched his teeth tightly. His jaw cracked like the fragmenting shell of a walnut.   
“Wake up.” he repeated. “Loki, wake up, dammit!” He did not realize that his breathing had begun to whistle harder through his lungs. Did not realize that his body was ravaged by an uncontrolled tremor. That the sign of first tears stood in his eyes. Outside, however, a light drizzle had begun.

  
Still. Motionless. Futile. Loki was dead. A living dead.   
  
“Please ... “, it finally crumbled from Thor's lips. And he sank down, letting his forehead collide with his brother’s. Closed his eyes. Waited. Prayed. To some lost names. To anyone.   
  
When he opened them again, he saw his own reflection flickering in emerald Earthen. He opened his mouth to cry out, to say something, give any sound.  To welcome and greet. (He was too exhausted for breaking out in mere joy).   
  
But the knot in his throat refused him to make tune.   
  
Loki blinked at the Thunderer in confusion. His eyes jerked in the darker recesses of the room several times, watching the ceiling, then Thor, the curtains, then Thor, the bloody glow on his chest and the bedside table with its eerie decor, then Thor.   
  
They were silent. Long. Countless seconds. Loki licked his dry lips. A tear drop landed on his left cheekbone, ran down his skin.   
  
“Who are you? ¨ he asked Thor in his soft baritone voice, free from any suspicion and mocking twist. “And why are you crying? “  
  
His gently fluctuating sound was held by a sincere interest.   
Thor was not even startled. Only with difficulty he could suppress the urge to throw his head back and to mix the air with a barking laugh. A laugh without content. A laugh beyond all joy and all the happiness with which the god outweighed otherwise.   
Vaguely, the words came to him that Hel had told.

 

 _“The souls I nourished him with caused considerable damage. I’m unable to tell how serious it will show in his living state.”_  
  
Now he knew the characteristics he could assign to time. And what they brought with them was very ugly.   
  


Secretely he called it 'merciless' and 'cruel'. An enemy that surprised him from behind with a dagger sending down his bare flesh. He could not defeat time. No one could defeat oit. For as death the time was one of those elemental forces, which even the All-Father could not counter. The time was powerful. Thor, however more powerless than ever. He did not have to yell into the night and swing his hammer to understand this. The finding was carved into his skeleton. Etched in his mind.   
  
“It is I.” he replied, wondering to himself that his bass still sounded so quiet, although his heart held captive in its own turmoil. “I am your brother. Don’t you recognize me? ¨ The last sentence could have been due Loki's previous questions might as well include a single rhetorical function. Thor asked anyway. He just had to be sure. He had to ...   
  
Loki frowned, looked at him impressively, almost as if he would inspect a meticulously crafted product.   
  
“No.” he answered innocently, raising an eyebrow. “You're my brother ...? ¨ A trail of mistrust bit down hard into his eyes as he tried to sit up. Simultaneous to his movements he moved a few inches away from his brother. Thor remained sitting on the bed. He nodded.   
  
“Don’t you know who you are? ¨ he prompted gently. He hardly dared to ask this question aloud, but did not have much of a choice anyway.   
  
“No.” the jotun said thoughtfully, cocked his head. Diplomatically, he folded his hands. “You called me... Loki when I woke up.¨ he repeated slowly. “Is this my name? Am I this Loki? ¨   
  
Thor nodded again. What should he do otherwise?   
  
¨Yes.¨   
  
“All right. I have a name. A mystery less to worry about.” Loki replied, laughing softly. But the laughter did not reach his eyes.   
  
The Thunderer swallowed hard. His throat was dry, dusty, as filled with broken glass. He thought of the scenery of the unnaturally contorted Loki in the dim light of the cell. The blood that was sprouted like a chain of liquid rubies from the pale wrist of his brother. He remembered how he had wondered why this blood that spattered the ground, was not blue, but red. Why red? Why not blue, not frost giant blue? Why no ice blood?   
  
Now he was sitting here on this pearly clean smelling bed sheets and wondered how someone he had known all his life, could look even more lost than after his supposed death and the following resurrection. But not lost in one sad, mad kind, but someone who had never seen something he was able to lose. He could not really name it, but there was something innocent in Loki's behavior that had captured him in a strange, wistful manner. It reminded him of the years, they had lived without dispute and murder. Happy years. At least in his opinion they had been happy.   
But all this, these gestures, this behavior - Thor knew from experience that he could fall prey to the illusion of his brother far too quickly. Loki seemed strangely unconcerned for someone who had become a stranger to himself. Although the thunder god had never experienced a similar situation before this, not on his own and not in connection with his friends, but he would have expected a bit more disorientation. A bundle of nerves. An explosion of emotions, including fear and paranoia.   
Instead - nothing. The exact opposite.   
On the other hand ... had Loki not always been this way? So terribly calm and balanced, while bubbling magma and his poisonous tongue poured into shape behind the cool facade?   
  
Loki's clear voice interrupted his thoughts.   
  
“Where are we actually? ¨ he asked annoyed, frowning out of the window, then looking at Thor. “And what happened? Is there a particular reason that I have lost my memory? Why did I forget my name and that you are my brother?”   
  
Thor felt paralyzed. What should he do now? What should he say? The truth ...?   
No. This Loki would not handle the truth. Not now, not today, not tomorrow, not once in seven days. There was too much. Too bloody and devastating. It would have only destroyed his brother in this vulnerable state, grounding his mind to crumbs. Thor wasn’t eager to be responsible for such cruelty.   
  
In Loki’s opinion, the Thunderer seemed to be silent too long, because he raised an eyebrow supporting a disapproving line around his mouth.   
  
“Thor? ¨ he hissed in an annoyed and slightly petrified tone. Still in the same moment all his facial features derailed and painted disbelief on his profile. Confusion parted the place and it made him look really weird. Like a bewildered child who had taken his first two steps and then promptly dropped on his butt.   
  
Thor froze in his attitude. Each tendon of his body froze to iron, while his heart alerted like a bird in a cage.

Nervously he looked up, met the curious gaze of his brother. Interested, but without any devious intent. Almost innocent.   
Loki showed him a timid smile. Uncertainty glowed in his eyes. Uncertainty. When was the last time Thor could have called Loki uncertain?  
  


“Thor ... that's your name, right? Somehow - well it fits you.” The hesitation in his velvet voice made the god of thunder tremble like a hysterical woman.   
  
He remembered him. Deep, deep into the nothingness that Hel had created using her games, his name had appeared out of the woodwork. This fact alone hurt Thor more than he would have thought possible. And assuming that tender, anxious Thor?, he made a final decision. Chose a path from which he did not know where it would lead him and his brother.   
But thinking, speculation and weighing risks had never been his strenghts outside of the battlefield. He did what his heart told him. And his heart burst almost the longer Loki gave him this quizzical look. This helpless look. This lonely view.   
  
“You fell.” it tumbled haltingly from Thor's mouth, pulled himself together mentally, consolidated his voice. “Off your horse. We - we were on a hunting trip and a bear broke out of the bushes. He frightened your horse, it rebelled and dropped you. Your skull hit a sharp-edged rock. You've bled a lot. I picked you up and brought to our healers. They said you were trapped in a coma and perhaps never would ... wake up again. I was in terrible fear.¨   
  
And at least the last sentence was meant honestly.   
  
Loki looked at him. Then he slowly moved his right arm, led him to the back of his head, feeling his skull provisionally. His eyes darkened, as he felt no suspicious collection or association.   
  
“I feel no wound.” he said almost accusingly. Thor might have chuckled if it had not been so dreadfully sick. If this whole situation would not have been an abomination. A hope, mingled with longing and the desire for a redress whatsoever.   
  
“This is normal.” he said softly, pointing to a reassuring smile. “It is long gone. Gods heal quickly.¨   
  
Loki's eyes widened.   
  
“Gods? ¨ he spat incredulously, as if he’d equate this term with Unicorns _?_ “Does that mean I'm a god? ¨   
  
Thor's smile remained, but now it seemed more like a forced mask. An unfortunate distortion of the mouth.   
  
“Yes. A god. The god of mischief and chaos. And a prince of aesirian blood. The younger prince of Asgard.¨   
  
The lie that had earlier meant the only truth in his life.Now it slid surprisingly quick from Thor’s lips. So ... natural.   
  
“Asgard ... ¨ Loki's gaze brightened for a moment. “Yes, that has a familiar ring, I think.¨   
  
He looked up, focused Thor with such clear, unblemished eyes that he believed he would see through the cloak of cloth, meat and bones, encircling the soul of the Thunderer and examining it after purity. Searching for lies and betrayal. But of course that was just imagination. At least Thor hoped so. But the lack of bitterness in Loki's character was **no** imagination. The ease in his gestures, his behavior and the neutral kindness he exchanged with Thor was **no** imagination. It was real. **He** was real. Everything was real.   
  
Growing migraine held his temples, tormented his senses. Instantly the room spun and he was convinced not being able to breathe. Felt the need of suffocation. Dizziness made the colors of the room shapelessly flow into one another while the blood-red morning light stung particularly glaring into his eyes.   
  
Swaying a little, he rose from the bed, took a few steps and caught himself at the last moment when he threatened to fall to the ground. He hated weakness, hated not being in control of his body. But even more, he would have hated it if Loki watched him in his misery, would have attended his powers fading in silence.   
The former Loki had mocked him for it. However, this Loki would be shocked.   
For him, Thor was now the only known anchor, to which he could cling to in his forgetfulness. Revealing him his own identity. If he broke right in front of Loki's eyes physically, Loki would be left in fear. And that was something that Thor could not allow. He could not bear that Loki was frightened or worried about him, simply for the reason that he had only known him for almost half an hour now and had suddenly claimed to be his brother. Though Loki would see it as his family duty to worry, real connectedness and feelings playing a rather meager role. Thor did not want Loki to be concerned about him or somehow being attached differently. Thor wanted Loki to worry about him if HE wanted it.

   
“I ... should leave you alone now.” the Thunderer said evasively, trying to get his balance upright, “You must digest this information first, I think. And you should rest.¨ The last sentence was a pure farce, if one thought about the fact that Loki had already slept for countless hours.   
  
Loki sighed.   
  
“Yes ... probably.” he replied stretched, but he did not seem convinced by what his thin compressed lips revealed to Thor. “Well. I’m awake now. Stay with me for a little while and tell me about my life.” Invitingly, he pointed to the chair. “So, who am I exactly? What dislikes and preferences I cherish? You're my brother, you'd have to know best, right? ¨   
  
“Loki, I really don’t think-“ he began miserably, but Loki cut him off.   
  
¨ - If you should feel a little wobbly, please feel free to rest at my side, that's no problem. Then I’ll watch over your sleep as you did over mine.” he said more harshly. Thor frowned. Then he sighed. He behaved very clumsy lately. And underestimated many people far too often.   
  
“You've noticed it.” he said. Loki merely rolled his eyes.   
  
¨Well, it’s not particularly difficult if you have eyes.” he replied sharply. “You're white as a sheet and you sweat. Do you really think you can fool me about your makeup away !? Not I, but you are one needing rest, brother.¨   
  
“It's nothing Loki.¨ Thor disagreed, probably because of bare defiance. At least he gave it up to leave the room and settled himself on the chair beside the bed. While sitting softened his vertigo, his migraine pounded on relentlessly. “But-“ He spread out his arms in an almost helpless manner. “How shall I tell you all this? Where am I going to start? I feel slightly overchallenged.¨   
  
Loki gave him an indefinable look. He seemed to struggle with himself internally. Then he suddenly shook his head, as if to deny himself, threw back the covers and moved a little aside. Prompting he patted the mattress, offered the seat next to him. Thor did not move an inch.  
  
“Well, first you should finally stop crying. Somehow it seems quite strange to me when you, a mountain of a man, have tears in his beard. You rarely cry, I guess.¨   
  
“I don’t cry. Not anymore.” the Thunderer contradicted in a husky voice, but the solitary tear that ran down his left cheek was belying him.   
  
Loki let out a snort. In his eyes, reveling a touch of scorn. Nearly one might have thought, the old Loki had come back to his senses.   
  
“But  you do.”, he said, undaunted, still seemed angry that his opponent wanted to sell him as a fool. But then, almost cheerful, playful. “Tell already, how long was I gone? It must have been eternal. Otherwise you would not be so sad to see me now in this state.¨  
  
“An eternity? ¨ Thor echoed hoarsely, leaning his forearms on his knees.¨ ... Yes. Yes, this could be.¨ he muttered, more to himself than to his opponent. He raised his head, spoke louder. “It has been years, Loki. I missed you so much in all these years.”  
  
Loki nodded. Content, as it seemed. “If so, you surely won’t leave me alone again so soon, huh? ¨ he asked amused, but there was no need to answer.   
  
A second time he pointed out to the seat next to him. And this time –Thor followed his command without any protest.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey again :)
> 
> Any comments? Do you want to read more? ^^
> 
> Greets,  
> Snow


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